


Revival

by Grachelle



Category: Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: Clawen, Dinosaurs, Eventual Relationships, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Jealous Owen, Mild Language, Mystery, Post-Movie(s), Science Fiction, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 14:34:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 56,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4266837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grachelle/pseuds/Grachelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Owen Grady is about to make  what he hopes isn't the dumbest decision of his life. The Certified Animal Behaviorist has just accepted a job back at the newly re-opened and revamped Jurassic World.  The woman he loves will be there, as will the friends he left behind, but can Owen deal with the new executive changes that are meant to make Jurassic world "safe" again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm trying my hand at writing a multi-chapter fic here. This is my first one for this fandom so... please forgive any weirdness that may ensue.
> 
> NOTE: I have shortened the title. Now it's just "Revival." It's the same story, don't worry. :)

The news of Jurassic World’s re-opening did not come as a surprise; it had been an eventuality, and it had not gone by unnoticed. Just as it was before the incident in December of 2015, Jurassic World ruled social media. There were thousands of news and media articles dedicated to some claim about the park; some were attacking, stating that dinosaurs and man could never coexist, and some were defending on the idea that what we have learned from these animals has been worth more than the consequences. This time around however, those who opposed the very existence of the park were becoming far outnumbered by people who thought that the park was necessary and one set back should not have it closed permanently.

Some thought the terrible accident that killed Simon Masrani was just a tragic part of the larger devastation that has come to be known as the _Triassic Tragedy_. The poor man lost control of his helicopter and crashed into the worst place possible. He gave his life for his mistake.  For others, it was seen as unforgivable. The amount of injuries, both mental and physical, that came from the incident could not be ignored; and as low as the death toll was, the reputation of the park was significantly less stable.

As seemingly knowledgeable as the public was on the incident on Isla Nublar, there was one aspect that only those who had witnessed it knew. No one had asked why the long-promised new attraction known as the Indominus Rex was scrapped without explanation. As far as they knew, the incident with the pteranodons and dimorphodons was caused by a horrific helicopter crash; there was no hybrid monster wreaking havoc on the island. No one had known the horrors that the were caused by a mad scientist’s blind ambition. Those who did know, and had experienced the malevolence of the Indominus close hand, were few and far between. Absurdly large sums of money were given to witnesses, both in compensation for the cost of their experience, and as a way to keep the information from getting out.

What prevented any leakage of information wasn’t the hush money, or even the possible outcome of the public finally learning the terrifying truth, but the fact that none of those who had experienced it actually wanted to talk about it. They were all exceedingly thankful to not be asked what happened, even the few of them who wished nothing more than to expose Jurassic World and it’s horrible creation. The mental, and in some tragic cases physical, wounds caused by the terror of the Indominus Rex were much too fresh. For them, the pain was still too near.

Now, almost two years following the incident, and with the public knowing only a minuscule fraction of what happened on Isla Nublar, and with the promise that the scientists at the Hammond Creation Lab would no longer create an asset capable of flying, Jurassic World was set to reopen in approximately one month. Dr. Henry Wu had also made a return, but was only offered the job after a contract stating the blatant creation of new species would not be taking place and that only historically correct assets would be created. No abominations would be hatched in the minds of the scientists.

The containment and care of the dinosaurs was the top priority. Merely days after the Triassic Tragedy, all animals were contained and accounted for. Enclosures were fixed, buildings were rebuilt, and of course, more assets were hatched to repopulate the park. Precautions were to be made before any dinosaurs were engineered; any ideas involving new assets were to be inspected and processed before any hatching would take place.

They would not be making the same mistakes again.

With everything ready, the only obstacle left was for the public's acceptance. It had taken over a year before the Masrani Global Corporation got the green-light on allowing people back on the island.

Owen Grady had first heard the news while being interviewed by TIME magazine.

“And how do you feel about the reopening of Jurassic World? Is it a good idea?” The reporter had asked, eagerly watching and waiting for an answer.

Owen of course had nothing to say at the time, given that the shock of the news was too jarring after an extended period of silence regarding the park. He had returned to his apartment that night, both slightly confused and irritated. On one hand, this was a terrible idea. He was surprised that anyone would even agree to return to that god forsaken island in the first place. On the other hand, the only mistake that had been made was creating that monster, or rather the method used in raising said monster, but one would think that a disaster such as the Indominus Rex would be a big enough sign to stop this altogether. However, there were times where Owen reflected on whether or not he would return to Isla Nublar. He remembered how Masrani Global Corp. had asked if he would accompany the handlers on an expedition to recapture the escaped animals, but he had promptly turned that offer down. That had been not even a day following the incident.

There were only a two reasons he could find for returning to Isla Nublar. Blue, and how she was surviving without a pack. It had been a constant worry in his mind ever since leaving her there. She had no one now.

It was odd, really, that two years ago, the thought of going back would cause Owen to grow sick; but now, he found within himself a pang of adventure still lurking. It was a small feeling at first, but he knew that in time it would only grow. The other reason was Claire. She was a creature of habit; she would return to where she was most comfortable.

And so, here he was, sitting in his small apartment, a laptop  in front of him, searching for any bit of information he could find.

The news had spread like wildfire throughout the internet. Upon returning home, Owen had immediately began researching why anyone would try to reopen the park, though he felt he already knew why. It was no secret that the profits that came in from this glorified zoo was substantial. Any chance to continue that success would easily be taken.

The sheer number of articles was overwhelming.

The first link featured a BuzzFeed article.

_‘Top 10 Reasons Why Reopening Jurassic World is the Best Idea Ever,’_

The comments on the list were no better.

_“Omg!! It’s coming back!!! Can’t wait!!”_

_"I had a freind who new some1 who died in the first park and than my cousins bff died in the Tragdey  teh dinosours should be all put down because there a danger to humens. humans should be at the top of the foodchain!”_

_“Jurassic World is so terrible. Why would they bring back dinosaurs more? Dinos had their chance, and God destroyed them. Ugh, disgusting.”_

_“Thank God! I have always wanted to see a T-Rex. I heard they are going to start making Dinosaurs more accurate. I hope they have feathers.”_

_“I hope they DON’T have feathers. Giant Chickens aren’t scary.”_

_"If God wanted Dinosaurs to live he would have let them on the ARK!”_

_“Dinos are so cool!! I would totally be a t-rex.”_

Another article, on another, more reliable website, featured an interview with Jurassic World’s new management team. After the death of Simon Masrani, the ownership of the park had gone to his second-in-command Sebastian Hale. His hope was to continue John Hammond’s vision by in turn picking things up where Mr. Masrani left off. To Owen’s incredulity, the elusive, and somewhat infamous, Henry Wu was once again part of the Jurassic World team. It came as a surprise seeing as that man was the creator of arguably the most dangerous creature to ever roam Isla Nublar.

Dr. Wu spoke of his past blunder, claiming that genetic modification was a mistake, but also a necessary one. “You need to know what the breaking point is,” he had said. “Unfortunately, finding that specific point came at a cost, but that is how we as a species must learn.”

He made no comment upon being questioned on his affiliation with InGen.

Owen skimmed through the rest of the names, and found himself searching for one name in particular. His heart skipped a beat upon finding it.

Claire Dearing was returning as the Senior Assets Manager. She was going back to that island. The sudden realization was startling, even with his previous speculation. It was his first time even seeing Claire in over a year, and it wasn't even in person; it was him finding out that she was once again in charge of an island full of prehistoric animals.

He found himself staring at, and dangerously close to admiring, the picture adjacent to the text. She seemed to have let her hair grow longer, the sharp angles of the symmetrical bob having been replaced by softer edges. The same sense of pride and dignity was ever present. All of this from a small picture on a news site.

A dull ache resonated throughout his chest, causing him to hastily close the laptop. He could look into the reopening later. Right now, he was too lost in thought to even begin to consider research. A distraction in nude high heeled shoes had taken over his thoughts.

The sudden feeling of both loneliness and reflection swept over him. A year without each other had already gone by, but the wounds felt as fresh as they had on day one. They had tried at maintaining some form of relationship after the incident, both agreeing that staying together was the best option, and in the first few months it was more than they had hoped for, but they had spoken too soon. All good things eventually must come to an end; or at least, that’s what they had comforted themselves with. It wasn’t a terribly messy break-up by any means. In fact, it had been mutual, which in a way, made the whole situation more painful.

Claire had been swamped with the PR nightmare aftermath, being bombarded with interview after interview, lawsuit after lawsuit, meeting after meeting. The very idea of a relationship soon became ludicrous, and beginning anything romantic with someone based off of a near-death experience was ill-advised.

And so they had both agreed that once the waters had settled, then maybe there would be a chance once again for them both.

A year had gone by, and no word from Claire. A year of being in dinosaur documentaries on the National Geographic channel called, “I Love the Jurassic!” A year of being a semi-celebrity for reasons that were arguably wrong. A year by himself. At first, Owen hadn’t been too shaken at the fact that she hadn’t called. After all, they had both been through so much, so obviously it would take some time for recovery. Now, however, seeing that she was back at her old job, back to her old self, Owen didn’t know how to feel; there was a numbing ache that he couldn’t quite place.

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud ringing in his pocket. He gave an annoyed sigh as he pulled the phone from his pocket. The name on the screen caused him to nearly drop the phone in surprise. He found himself staring,  not out of contemplation, but of pure shock.

_Claire._

 

 


	2. Welcome Back, Mr. Grady

She had asked him to come back.

Well, come back to Isla Nublar. As it turned out, Blue had been easily captured; “easily,” for reasons Owen hadn’t known. She was now residing in a newly renovated paddock, but from what Claire had told him, Blue was in no way satisfied with her conditions. Claire had told him about how new Raptors were hatched as a way for Blue to cope without her whole pack, and how the idea backfired. It was apparently difficult to convince an older raptor to take in younger ones without some sort of interference. Blue’s rebellious nature resulted in both sets of raptors being forced into separation.

Claire had said how she knew exactly who to call, and ignoring Owen’s joke about ghostbusters, asked him to take back his old job as an animal behaviorist and researcher.

It didn’t really take Owen much thought. The idea of seeing and working with Blue again was thrilling, and the fact that he and Claire would be reunited was more appealing than anything. He accepted the offer without a second thought, more than happy at the notion of returning to his old life.

And now here he was, climbing out of a helicopter, landing confidently on the ground below, not even bothering to cover his ears against the thundering sound of the blades. It was an odd feeling, starting his second-first day of work at the same job, though the ride there had been drastically different. The Central American sun was certainly the same; the sweltering heat unforgiving. It was only when the helicopter left that he could fully take in his new surroundings. The dull roar of construction mixed with the distant bellows of the animals filled the air, a truly odd combination. He turned, looking out at the park. The vast expanse of the park in its entirety could be seen from the landing pad of the control room, and it truly was a sight to behold. It hadn’t really occurred to Owen the extent at which he would miss this place. While it was true that he had at one point developed the urge to see the island once more, it never really manifested into anything significant. What had been just a small, muted inkling before, had now swelled into a feeling of pure joy.

The sound of an opening door behind him caught his attention. He turned to see what would arguably be the most breathtaking sight on Isla Nublar; Claire Dearing, a clipboard in hand, smiling at him.

Owen had to suppress the excitement that resonated within him at the sight of her. The picture on that article hadn’t done her any justice. “Hello, Ms. Dearing,” He said, nodding in acknowledgement, in the most serious tone he could muster, but failing to stop his mouth from twitching upward into a smirk.

Claire was at first taken aback, and slightly hurt, by the sudden formality, but upon seeing the amused glint still present in his eyes she relaxed. “Hello, Mr. Grady,” she responded, her voice stern, mimicking his own overly professional greeting.

There was a moment where neither of them said anything at all, and they found that they didn’t need to. It was a comfortable silence, one that didn’t need conversation. He noticed Claire shift slightly before straightening, reverting back to her stoic stature. “If you will follow me, Mr. Grady,” She turned around, beckoning to Owen as she started toward the door, glancing back briefly to speak. “I can bring you up to date on what we’ve accomplished so far.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Owen obeyed, trailing close behind her.

* * *

“Since the incident, the park has come a long way,” Claire went on, glancing to Owen before returning her eyes to the road. “ACU was able to contain all of the loose animals, thankfully, but when the handlers initially returned, they found many animals in critical condition, and many that were already dead.  

After a meeting concerning the current and future goals for the park, and a lunch provided by the hibachi grill on Main Street, Owen had requested a visit to the raptor enclosure, at which Claire gladly obliged to.

The softer tone in her voice as she spoke about the well-being of the animals did not go by unnoticed. A small smile crept onto Owen’s face as he listened.

“...many needed to be euthanized. Most of the others are able to live with their injuries, though we did of course help in whatever way we could. Our new veterinary staff has been more than competent in their field, but recently it has been brought to our attention that the animals’ psychological health is on the decline.”

“But now that InGen is out of the picture,” Owen started. “What will I be doing here? They were kinda the reason I was here in the first place.”

“You will be doing exactly what you did before the incident. Well, almost,” she replied, not taking her eyes off of the road. “Behavioral research, for one, and ensuring that each animal has the proper amount of mental stimulation.” She paused, allowing a beat of silence before continuing on the next bit, one she was sure Owen wouldn’t be too keen on. “And, as you know, Mr. Masrani had hoped that the raptors would someday be an attraction,” she noticed Owen open his mouth to speak in protest, but she cut him off. “And the new owner, Sebastian Hale, wishes to continue with Mr. Masrani’s legacy. It’s only a possibility. It’s not set in stone.”

Claire knew for a fact that from the very beginning, Owen had been against the possibility of raptors becoming attractions at the park. They had both learned enough from the previous park’s failure, and they both knew better than to say that a disaster like that would never happen again if certain precautions were taken. These animals were unpredictable.

Owen remained silent. He refused to argue this subject now after just arriving, and he knew that no matter what, this would come up again later. He thought it best to leave it alone for now, so he quickly changed the subject. “You said something earlier about how the animals’ morale seems a little low?”

“Many of the animals seem to be… sad,” She responded, almost unsure of her own words. “But we’ve found that companionship and enrichment can help to increase morale.”

Owen nodded, understanding. “That’s not just for dinosaurs,” he mumbled, tearing his eyes away from the woman driving.

Claire had heard him mutter something under his breath. “Pardon?”

The weak grin that formed across his face almost give him away. “Nothin’. Just,” he paused, contemplating what he wanted to say. “It’s really good to see you, Claire.”

Claire’s face remained impassive for a moment, as if she were confused by his words. Her brow furrowed slightly before her expression softened, her mouth stretching into a shy smile. “It’s... it’s good to see you, too.”

The car stopped in front of a familiar sight; waves of memory washing over Owen as he climbed out of the car, his eyes never leaving the paddock. The unmistakable trills, clicks, and honks affiliated with raptors filled his ears. It had almost been as if he never left. Under normal circumstances, the noises these animals made would not have worried him, but the distressed, and somewhat angry calls coming from within the enclosure worried Owen.

“Dammit!” A loud, firm voice snapped in a thick Australian accent. “Alright, try again.”

Another squeal clipped the air, followed by a series of agitated squawks.

“What’s going on?” Owen asked as he started toward the enclosure.

Claire followed close behind, paying mind to Owen’s sudden change in disposition. “One of our new handlers, Bill Mundy. He was here for the first batch of raptor hatchlings since restarting the park.” She said, following Owen up the metal staircase. “When ACU first arrived here, the raptors they found weren’t in exactly the best shape.”

“Raptors? As in more than one?”

“One of them was already dead; broken back. Another was severely burned. And the last one, of course Blue, got by with a few broken ribs.”

Owen opened his mouth to speak but there were no words to be found. If he was to understand what she was saying...

Upon reaching the top they saw a man, clad in khaki from head to toe, standing at the base of the enclosure, firing off commands like he was some kind of military general. However intimidating he looked and sounded, his presence had no impact on the two raptors below him.

 _Two_ raptors.

The first, obviously Blue, was staring hungrily at the handler above, snarling every time the man made even the slightest of movements. She hissed as he yelled commands at her, slightly lowering herself to the ground, attack-ready.

It didn’t take long to find the second raptor. The first thing Owen noticed was the slight limp in her gait, and the feebleness of her stance. She looked as if even the lightest gust of wind would easily knock her over. She was a patchwork of off-colored scales and pale pink skin, deep scars covering her torso. With a turn of her head, he saw that the left eye socket was empty, the surrounding area slightly swollen. She turned again, allowing Owen to see a long white scar running along the side of her mouth, giving her an unnatural sneer.

_Echo._

Echo had survived. Blue had not been alone. She had _pack_. She had _family_.

Owen stepped closer to the railing, bracing both hands on the metal bar. The realization that Blue was never alone shook him to the core. All this time he had been worrying about whether she would make it or not, but being too much of a coward to actually leave and find out for himself. He felt the first few tears welling in his eyes, turning his vision blurry for a brief moment.

The light clicking of heels moving across the grating caused him to stiffen. He turned his head to see Claire now standing next to him. “Echo was only half-alive when ACU found them. Blue refused to let anyone near her. It was nearly impossible to separate them long enough to contain them. We brought both of them here and our chief vet performed a miracle. We were thinking he should be canonized. But even after the skin grafts and initial treatment, Echo still needs attention every other week. Her burns have healed mostly, but there’s still a chance that she will have other unforeseen complications. Now, actually getting to her is the hard part.”

Owen finally looked up, having to tear his eyes away from the raptors.

“As I said, Blue refuses to leave Echo’s side, and has tries to attack anyone who goes near her. So, on the treatment days, the handlers have to contain Blue before they can actually do anything. It’s never an easy process.”

The only response Claire received was a small, noncommittal nod. Owen had turned his attention back to the two raptors below. Blue was constantly putting herself between Bill the handler and Echo, ensuring that no one would be touching her pack-mate. It was only when Owen shifted his weight on the railing did she even notice another human had been there. She instantly switched her attention to the new man, hissing at the new presence; but as her eyes fell on him she visibly relaxed, cocking her head to the side and chittering lightly. Two golden eyes stared right back at him.

Owen felt himself smile at the sight of her. “Hey, Blue, Echo,” he finally said, just barely managing to keep his voice from breaking. “How’re my girls doing?”

At the sound of his voice, Blue let out a series of excited squawks and high pitched squeals, calling to the other raptor. They both watched Owen eagerly, vocalizing as their excitement grew. His lips twitched upward into a wide grin.

Owen’s hand immediately moved to his eyes as he felt the same sensation from earlier grow, preventing any tears from actually falling. He could hardly believe it. Not too long ago, he had been agonizing over the idea that Blue had no one but herself. He had wondered just how Blue had been caught alive; and now he knew why. He found himself chuckling in both amazement and disbelief.

The sharp tone of the man behind Owen brought him out of his new-found joy.

“Alright, who’s got the ladies all up and jumpy?” Bill the handler asked as he moved across the walkway. “We don’t have time for interruptions.”

Claire cleared her throat before speaking, “Mr. Mundy, this is Owen Grady.”

“Ah,” Bill said, clearly unimpressed, extending his hand forward. “Mr. Grady. I’ve heard a lot about you. Maybe you can get our little Blue to cooperate.”

Owen shook the man’s hand, only slightly offended at the implication that Blue was the problem. “Depends,” he answered before pulling his hand back to his side. “What exactly are you wanting her to do?”

As Claire had told Owen over the phone, three new hatchlings had been created as a way to provide Blue with a new pack. They expressed their fears that Echo would not last as long as her fellow survivor, and the idea was that a pack transition would be easier with both new and old members. They however did not take into account the vast differences between the two generations. Blue had not taken to the idea of three younger, more unpredictable and hyperactive juveniles around a sick and injured Echo. There had been multiple cases and trials that ended in Blue attacking one of the younglings for even looking at Echo. Claire had expressed their hopes that maybe Owen could have some influence on the raptor’s actions.

Bill had laughed, “There is no controlling these beasts. They need a lobotomy for that. Why we can’t just let the lame one pass, makes no sense at all to me. Don’t get me wrong. They’re smart little blighters; but without the little gimp, I feel the integration of all the girls would go so much more smoothly.”

Owen held back a few choice words. From what he understood, he would be replacing this asshat. No need to stir up drama. Looking back to the two raptors, he watched as Blue let Echo lean on her. To anyone else's eyes it would have looked like nothing but two animals staying close for protection. But to Owen, they were loyal creatures that had enough emotion and feeling to nurture and protect their ailing friends.

“I’ll see what I can do, Mr. Mundy,” Owen said, folding his arms across his chest.

Bill gave a curt nod before descending down the metal stairway. “Alright, let’s try this again!”

The raptors seemed to calm as the man left, the tension slowly melting away. Owen turned to see Claire writing something on her clipboard. She must have felt him staring; she stopped and looked up to meet his gaze. “That guy’s a moron,” He said, a slight joking edge in his voice. Claire’s lips stretched into a small smile at the comment, silently giving her agreement. Another beat of silence passed between them, neither of them really sure what to say.

Just when Owen had thought of something to break the silence, a loud jingle coming from Claire’s purse cut through the air. She looked at him apologetically, mouthing the word ‘sorry,’ before reaching for the phone in her bag.

“Hello, Tom?” She paused, her expression changing from one of curiosity to one of worry. “Oh, not another one… Alright, I’ll be there soon... No, no, I  insist. We have to figure this out before it gets out of hand.” There was a troubled look etched across her face as she ended the call. She pursed her lips, the gears in her head turning. She finally looked up to Owen, managing a slight but weak grin. “I’m so sorry, Owen, but I have to go.” She turned and began making her way down the metal stairs, Owen following close behind. “There’s a sick Trike over in Paddock 3 and our head vet needs—”

“It’s alright, go,” He assured, waving his hand nonchalantly as they reached the base of the stairs.  “We can consult later,” He added with a wink.

“Yes, well,” Claire shifted slightly, briefly looking down at the ground as if the gravel had suddenly become the most interesting thing in the area. “You remember where your bungalow is, right?” Before Owen could even answer, she started towards her car.

Owen watched as the woman drove off, leaving him in the dust. He would be lying if he had said that Claire’s behavior this afternoon hadn’t caught him off guard. It isn’t like he thought that upon reuniting that they would go at it like rabbits, but this was almost … awkward. Had he said something that put her off?  It was as if nothing in the past few years had ever happened. To be frank, it was damn hurtful. While he did understand that a year of no contact could have a significant toll on two people’s relationship, and he was naive to think that they could go back and just start from where they left off, but that did not take away from the fact that all of this left his heart feeling that all too familiar dull ache, and a strange uneasiness in his stomach.

He could only hope that the awkwardness would be short-lived.

His thoughts were interrupted by the staccato cawing coming from within the enclosure. He chuckled, turning back up the stairs, eager to work once more with his girls.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! :)


	3. Reunions and Meetings

It had not been easy watching the new handlers' sad attempt at rounding up Blue and Echo; it was almost cringe-worthy. One of the new guys would run around the back, hoping to distract Blue while another would try coaxing Echo into her stall with a chunk of mystery meat. Needless to say, they were failing. Miserably. It was only when Owen noticed a handler coming forward with a long taser, test-shooting the surrounding air, did he decide to intervene. "Hey! You go anywhere near those animals with that and they'll never trust you!" He yelled, yanking the pole out of the young man's hand.

The other handlers stared blankly at Owen, none of them quite sure on how to proceed.

"Jesus," Owen muttered under his breath as he rolled his eyes. "How the hell are these guys still alive?"

The high pitched screech from below caught his attention; he turned his gaze, immediately making eye contact with the gray and blue raptor below. "Blue," he said firmly, slowly bring a hand up, snapping his fingers to divert her attention . "Eyes on me."

She hissed, baring her teeth as she watched his every move, muscles twitching in anticipation.

"Hey!" He snapped again, the resonance in his voice taking on a deeper quality. In his peripheral vision, Echo had taken on a similar stance; crouched slightly, claws out. "Come on now! Knock it off!" The hissing dimmed out, barely above a whisper. "Okay, good!" He began inching little by little toward the stalls, his eyes never leaving the theirs. "Alright, we're moving."

This had been a common routine in the past; he would get the raptors' attention, and practice basic pack maneuver skills. There was a brief moment where Owen did not think that they would follow; a moment where the idea that maybe there was the slightest of chances that they wouldn't listen popped up in his brain; a nagging voice in his head chastising him for even thinking for a second that this would work. Two years apart could certainly have changed everything.

His doubts were proven wrong; after only a few seconds—even  _that_  feeling like an eternity—both raptors began to move with him. Owen's lip twitched upward into a faint smile; his heart thumping wildly. The thrill of seeing and interacting with his girls in this way was exhilarating, and he felt his chest tighten as they looked up to him expectantly.

After finally arriving at an acceptable distance from the boxes, Owen spoke again. "In your places, girls!"

He heard a disgruntled warble in protest come from Blue.

"Let's go!"

Another moment passed of stillness. With one final, almost spiteful glance, Blue led both her and Echo into the stalls.

"Close the gates!" Owen commanded, not dropping the alpha stance just yet. At the sound of the metal bolts and locks clicking into place, Owen's body instantly relaxed into its former state. His heartbeat still thundered in his ears as he let out a sigh. Though the ending had been somewhat happy, there was still that part of him that knew even the slightest mistake could have made the whole thing crumble to little pieces of failure. The hesitation and defiance in Blue's responding actions had been enough to show Owen that there was still work to do.

There was also that melancholy feeling from how incomplete the pack seemed. The jolt of grief that shot through Owen brought back the loss of Charlie and Delta.

Enraged squeals coming from within the stalls cut through the air as he descended the metal stairway. None of the handlers dared to question or stop him when he opened the gate on the lower level and joined the vets in the smaller enclosure.

He watched in silence as the vets poked and prodded Echo, going behind the stall to access her body, taking brief moments to jot down notes onto their tablets. She sat somewhat patiently as one took a blood sample while the other began rubbing a salve over her now healed over burns. It was very peculiar, seeing as the one who had been objecting the whole ordeal the most had not been Echo, but Blue.

Echo, who Owen remembered as being one of the more feisty members of the pack, merely tolerated the treatment, never once fighting it; as if she understood that it was necessary for her survival. Blue on the other hand, snarled, thrashing violently in her place. It pained Owen to witness her going through such a state of unrest. The sad truth was that her behavior was only the result of the strong pack dynamic held between the two. To her, she was only acting on what life had taught her;  _pack_  must be protected. That she couldn't act on millions of years of instinct was tragic in and of itself. Her body confined in such a tight space barred her from actually making a difference, and being forced to watch and hear everything the vets were doing did not help either.

The check-up ended shortly after it began. Echo had fully relaxed in her stall, almost as if the metal surrounding her was the only thing holding her up, her eyes fluttering shut. A sense of pity overwhelmed Owen as he began to realize what exactly Claire had meant earlier about morale and psychological health.

He moved to Echo's side, placing a steady hand on her neck, feeling the varying textures of rough scales to smooth skin. The raptor tensed only slightly at the contact, before relaxing against his hand. Earlier in the catwalks, Owen hadn't really taken the time to examine the handiwork of two years of treatment; he had only been able to see the obvious. Now, Owen could only imagine what the complications had been; what she had to go through to still be alive.

"This is what she's like after every treatment," a voice behind Owen informed.

He startled slightly, though not removing his hand from Echo's neck, only briefly looking back to the young woman.

"In case you were wondering," the vet tech added, stepping forward.

In truth, he had wondered. The unmistakable exhausted trill that came from the raptor gave it away. Owen continued running his hand along her neck as he listened.

The vet tech continued. "We've been giving her these treatments every other week for the past two years. I'm sure Ms. Dearing informed you of the state we found her in."

Owen nodded, not only recalling the conversation that had taken place not one hour ago, but the memory of Echo's body being engulfed by flames. "She did."

"You'll be glad to know that she was our top priority. The skin grafts and blood transfusions were done in the first week, but the infections were nearly out of control; we were worried about the infection in her eye socket reaching her brain. Luckily, our head vet is a genius and a miracle worker; he was able to keep her alive  _and_  mentally sound."

Echo exhaled shakily, leaning as close to Owen as the metal cage would allow her. It was clear that in spite of all of the treatment and therapy, there was nothing that was able to take away what happened. Owen scratched the corner of the underside of her jaw, resulting in a pleased chuff coming from Echo.

"There are still some minor complications from time to time;" the vet tech began again. "Skin irritations, difficulty moving, and fatigue."

Owen stood, giving Echo a final but gentle pat. He extended his hand to the young woman, grasping it into a firm handshake. "Thank you, ma'am. You and your team have done a great job with her."

Owen moved over to Blue's stall. Immediately, her whole body tensed, a low growl coming from her throat. "Woah, easy," Owen said in a quiet but firm tone. He brought his hand to her face, not deterred by her sudden outrage.

At his touch, she let out a monstrous bark, the metal halter preventing her from opening her mouth to bite. "Hey!" Her alpha snapped, hands now on both sides of her face. "Easy," He soothed, bringing his hand up once more, internally sighing in relief as she allowed his touch. His lips quirked into a smile as he stroked the side of her head. "Good."

Blue's threatened growls gradually morphed into contented warbling. Owen marveled at how dedicated these animals were to each other. They had both experienced so much pain and loss; it was astounding that they had both lasted as long as they did, especially minus two vital members. Delta and Charlie had helped to complete the pack. Charlie, being the youngest, had always looked up to Blue, and never hesitated to turn over parts of her food to the beta.

Delta had been the one that was less fueled by impulse; her actions were almost always based on thought. Barry had claimed that if you stared at her long enough, you could see the gears in her head turning.

Owen remembered all of the times that he had to oversee fights between Blue and Echo to ensure that no one was seriously hurt. The latter was constantly challenging her beta for dominance; something which never really went away. That was why it was surreal to see them now: Blue allowing Echo to lean on her for support, Blue never leaving Echo's side, Blue threatening any living thing that came near her injured pack-mate.

He felt himself smile again, the lump that had been forming in his throat increasing in size as he continued running his hands across Blue's face. "Yeah," he murmured, looking over to Echo briefly before returning his gaze to Blue. "You've done a great job with her, too." His hand stopped, his smile fading slightly. "Thanks."

Part of him was convinced that Blue had understood the sentiment in his words. She stood motionless, emitting a low hum in response.

Unbeknownst to Owen, he was being observed by none other than Mr. Mundy. "Well done, Mr. Grady!"

Owen turned, seeing the new handler Bill standing on the opposite side of the gate.

"I have to say, you've got amazing control of these little beauts."

"Yeah, well," Owen replied, turning away from the raptors. "They treat you with the same respect that you give 'em,"

Bill threw his head back in a hearty laugh. "In all my years handlin' all sorts a' dangerous creatures, I've found one thing: they've got no concept of respect." His laughter faded, his expression turning colder. "You wanna get to an animal, it's gotta fear you. If they fear you, they obey you. Same goes for people."

Was he serious?This was the man that has been in charge of his raptors all this time? This Crocodile-Hunter-Vic-Hoskins hybrid of a man? He could hardly believe it. It was no surprise now why Blue and Echo had not taken to this man at all. Owen pressed his lips together in a thin line, electing to ignore what he had just heard. "They know when you respect 'em," he said flatly, returning his attention to Blue.

He fought to urge to just knock the man out right there, clenching his fists as he heard the man let out another hoot of laughter. "Thank you, Mr. Grady," he managed finally, turning around to climb up into the catwalks above. "It's been a real pleasure chatting." He called out.

As the sound of Mr. Mundy's footsteps faded away, Owen loosened his fist. He lowered himself onto the stool between Echo and Blue's stalls. He knew letting what the man had said get to him was a terrible idea, but if this was the man raising the new raptors in the other enclosure, then something was bound to go wrong. Mr. Mundy was too assertive. The real trick to being an alpha was not about aggression or how many animals you can get to cower in fear at the sight of you. It wasn't even about whether or not you were the Cesar Millan of dinosaurs. As he had said many times before: it was about respect.

* * *

Owen returned to his bungalow that evening, the events of the day suddenly taking a toll on his ability to stay awake. Before his arrival, his employers had taken the time to have his old home revamped, just like everywhere else in the park. The new additions were minor, much to his relief. Owen wasn't one for drastic change, and coming back to see his old place in almost identical condition was more than welcomed. They had even gone as far as to supply him with another motorcycle, something which he found himself exceedingly thankful for.

He pushed the door open, his hand searching up and down the inside wall for a light switch. The room instantly lit up, revealing that it really had stayed the same. It was eerie to a degree; for a moment, it felt as if he had never left, as if the incident had never happened. The only difference was just how tidy the home was.

Owen was in no way an overly messy person, but he preferred his living spaces to look  _lived_  in. He enjoyed the occasional clutter scattered across a room; a few magazines strewn about a coffee table instead of a neat little stack. It gave the place its own personal touch and made him feel like this was his territory.

This minor flaw was easily fixed.

He picked up the luggage that had been delivered to his door and tossed the duffel bags haphazardly into his room. He turned back to the living room, kicking his boots of before shoving them across the floor.

 _Much_  better.

With a satisfied nod, Owen collapsed onto the couch, the previous events of the day running through his mind on repeat. There had been a small part of him that dreaded returning to Isla Nublar. It was the same part that had reprimanded him for taking the job in the first place all those years ago, but the job had proven to be more than worth the hassle.

It was at that moment that he decided to call the only other person who could share his love for the clever girls. Without a second thought, he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed the number of an old friend.

After only a few rings, there was an answer. " _Owen?_ " Barry inquired upon picking up.

"Hey, man," Owen shifted on the couch, propping his feet up to rest on the cluttered coffee table. He had kept in touch with Barry over the course of the recovery period following the incident, and had maintained their friendship throughout. Their phone conversations were few and far between, as one of them would only call when there was something new or significant happening. It was a comfort for Owen to have someone who shared his experiences to talk to at the time, even though they were separated by over two-thousand miles. "I'm here now."

" _Ah, how is the dinosaur island?_ " Barry asked, his voice tinted in humor.

Apparently Barry too had been offered his old job back following the incident. Unlike Owen, Barry's recovery period was a slower process, and as much as Barry loved the animals, no force on Earth could convince him to return. Learning that all of the raptors save for Blue were dead was just the final nail in the coffin. Delta had been Barry's favorite, and she had arguably grown closer to him than to Owen.

"Well, no one's been eaten yet, so I'd say pretty damn good," Owen responded.

" _Owen, my friend, as much as I respect and support you… I still can't believe you would go back to a place filled with such corruption and danger._ "

"Believe me," Owen replied, scratching his head. "I really can't either," He half-lied. Owen knew full well why he agreed to come back.

" _You know I loved them, too,_ " Barry countered, seeing right through Owen's denial. " _But to go back… Is just crazy. Even for Blue._ "

Owen pursed his lips, unsure of how to react. "Well—"

" _And you and I both know that she wasn't the only reason…_ "

He felt himself chuckling at Barry's words. While it was true that Blue was a main motivation for coming back, it was no secret that another strong female had some amount of influence on his decision.

Owen paused, debating on just how to word the next part of the conversation. Barry hadn't known of Echo's survival. It was to his understanding that the only one left alive was Blue; that was what Owen thought as well before he returned. "I saw Blue today," Owen announced.

" _How did that go?_ "

Owen bit his lip, mentally forming the sentence before he spoke. "Good. A little shaky at first, but good. Echo's alive." He had said that last part so matter-of-factly that he barely noticed the sharp intake of breath over the other line.

" _Merde,_ " Barry cursed in disbelief. " _How?_ "

Owen explained how ACU had found her and Blue together, and how the veterinary team of Jurassic World was able to work their magic. Barry listened with silent intensity, periodically questioning just how Echo had survived being roasted alive. He was both shocked and amazed, and shared Owen's joy hearing that Blue still had a pack. " _I am guessing that Delta was not so fortunate?_ " He asked, his voice only slightly quavering.

"No," Owen simply said, allowing a beat of silence to pass between them. "I'm sorry."

" _It's alright,_ " Barry replied half-heartedly.

It was then that Owen heard the loud barking dog in the background on the other line. Barry cursed again and apologized, before hanging up.

The room immediately filled with silence, save for the loud  _tick-tock_ of the clock on the wall. Owen glanced out of the window, seeing the sun outside was beginning to set for the early-evening. He had just started debating on whether or not to return to the raptor enclosure for the night when his phone began chirping loudly. The caller ID showed a stunning redhead, followed by the name 'Claire.'

"Hello, Claire," He said, answering the phone perhaps a little too quickly. He mentally scolded himself for not being patient enough to let it ring a few more times. "What can I do for you?" He asked, relaxing into his natural 'flirt-with-Claire' mode.

He could almost hear the exasperated eye-roll through the phone. " _Yes, hello Owen. I was calling to ask if you'd be interested in continuing our meeting tomorrow, during lunch?_ "

"A lunch date already?" He asked, flirtation ever present in his voice. "That's a little forward, don't you think?"

" _Owen—_ "

"I'd love to," he interjected before she could get a word in.

* * *

They had agreed to meet at Winston's Steak house the following day for a late lunch. Owen would have been lying if he denied being wrought with anticipation the entire first half of the day. This would be the first time for both of them sitting together at a table, enjoying a meal since their mutual break-up. It was finally a chance for them to be alone, without interruptions. It would give them a chance to catch up and possibly rekindle where they had left off.

As soon as he was able, he drove his motorcycle like a madman through the park, only stopping upon arriving at the newly renovated restaurant.

He first saw her, sitting at a small table next to a large window across the way. Her eyes were glued to the menu in her hands, only looking up to thank the waiter as he delivered a glass of water. Her eyes fell on Owen as he stood at the entrance, a shy smile tugging at her lips at the sight. She gave a small wave before beckoning him to come over.

Owen could feel his heart-rate picking up. After so many years of knowing this woman, she still had a maddening effect on him; an effect that  _really_  brought out his inner don juan. She stood to shake his hand, the touch sending jolts of a nameless emotion through him. He smirked as they both took their seats across from each other. "You have no idea how tempting it was to wear board shorts," Owen said as he unfolded his menu. His eyes glanced up from the card, searching for her reaction.

He could tell she was trying to hide her smile behind the menu. She craned her neck around the table for a moment as if she were checking to be sure he  _hadn't_  given into that specific temptation. "Well, those are a start," she said, gesturing to his dark denim jeans.

"You don't suppose there's any actual dino meat on the menu?"

"Owen, don't you think that's a little in bad taste?"

They both shared a quiet laugh before returning to their menus.

Having decided on the Porterhouse, he lowered his menu, taking a moment to admire the woman across from him. There was no questioning it; she was beautiful. He recalled when they had first met, the obscene thoughts that had gone through his head upon setting his eyes on her. It was a strange feeling, the memory being several years ago and seeing just how much has changed. He thought differently of her, that was for sure. Granted, the suggestive thoughts were still present and going strong, but there was a new element. He no longer thought of her exclusively in  _that_  way. When they had first met, he found her fiery nature and no-nonsense attitude to be intimidating (and he would be lying if he said that wasn't the case anymore). He had only seen her as another conquest; a challenge. Now, after all they had been through together, what he felt for her had developed into something more.

Claire noticed Owen's stare, and to be honest, she didn't mind. She was hardly able to contain her smile upon seeing him searching aimlessly at the entrance. It had occurred to her that this would be difficult, being reunited, but nothing could have prepared her for the intense wave of old feelings that crashed over her. ' _This is not going to be easy,_ ' she thought as her eyes raked over her handsome lunch companion.

"I suppose we should get down to business," Claire said, folding her menu down on the table. The smirk on Owen's face accompanied by his sly wink instantly made her regret her choice of words, but she couldn't quite fight back the smile tugging at her lips.

"Claire, you need to  _at least_ buy the dinner first. I ain't that easy."

They both began chuckling at just how absurd the entire situation felt. Here they were, enjoying a late lunch, their dynamic almost exactly as it had been before. It was comfortable for them both. There was a pause before Owen reached across the table to grab Claire's hand, neither of them breaking eye contact. She tensed only slightly at his move, her eyes briefly glancing between his hand and his eyes.

The intensity in his gaze matched with the light circles he was tracing on her hand with his thumb was almost enough to make her revert into a giddy, love-sick schoolgirl. The feeling of his coarse hand enveloping hers brought forth a surge of fond memories. Before she could even prevent the thought, she remembered exactly what those hands were capable of. Unconsciously, she bit her lip.

Owen's near-predatory smirk transformed into a gentler smile. She returned the sentiment, allowing herself this moment. Owen took a deep breath, his eyes leaving hers for a fraction of a second. "Claire—"

"Claire!" A new voice shattered the air around them, bringing them both out of their trance like state. Claire hastily yanked her hand back, practically falling back into her chair.

Owen turned to see a tall, curly headed man nearing their table, clad in a blue Jurassic World polo with khaki shorts. Owen furrowed his brow in confusion, only just now noticing the third menu on the table. Claire hadn't said anything about a third party that he could recall. Who the hell was this guy, then?

He watched as Claire rose from her chair to greet the man in a warm embrace. The familiar pang of ' _what-the-hell_ ' shot through Owen seeing the man plant a chaste kiss on her cheek.

The man spoke again as he took his seat between Claire and Owen, in a soft English accent. "My Darling Dearing, who's this?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading, commenting, leaving kudos, etc. You guys rock! :)
> 
> I decided to change the first name of the new owner of the park. He won't be in the story that much, and as funny as it would be for Saxton Hale to own JW, I thought it would be too weird for the people who actually knew who his character was. 
> 
> Anyways... Enjoy! :)


	4. Dr. Thales

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I put in the story notes, I did shorten the title. Thank you to everyone reading, commenting, and just existing in general. :)
> 
> This chapter came out a little longer than anticipated, but I hope you enjoy it! :)

For a brief moment, Claire was at a loss for words. It was only when she noticed that both men were watching her expectantly, Owen with slight confusion and the other man beaming brightly, did she realize that she was actually supposed to talk.

"Owen, this is Dr. Thomas Thales, Jurassic World's chief veterinary geneticist," she said, her words coming out faster than she'd anticipated, gesturing to the curly-headed man. "Tom, this is Owen Grady—Our new T.E.D. The one I was telling you about."

The vet's gleaming smile seemed to grow even larger. "I can't believe I didn't recognize you!" He stood up from his chair, stepping over to Owen, grasping his hand and shaking it briskly. "I'm actually a huge fan," he said excitedly, not breaking his enthusiastic hand-shake. "Claire, was this the surprise you were keeping from me? I truly am honored that you've come. I kept telling her that we needed a better T.E.D. I am so glad you listened to me, darling," Dr. Thales barely stopped for breath, addressing both Owen and Claire without pausing. "I cannot believe Mr. Owen Grady is here! I've seen every episode of 'I Love the Jurassic.' It is literally the greatest show on earth! I have even incorporated some of your theories into my own work with the assets!"

Owen's hand was starting to go numb. Politely but firmly he pulled his hand away, gently shaking it so that the blood would begin to flow to his aching digits. Owen's seemingly subtle movement had not gone unnoticed by Tom. "Oh! I'm so sorry. Is your hand alright? Your sudden arrival seems to have caused me to go a bit mental," he gently laughed for a moment. "I apologize if I have hurt you in any way."

The man's enthusiastic prattling reminded Owen of a bumbling professor he once had in college. Dr. Thales was tall, almost the same height as Owen; but where Owen was bulky, Dr. Thales was whipcord thin. His smiling face reminded Owen of a child's on Christmas morning. The doctor had big blue eyes that screamed innocence; his whole demeanor was akin to an attention starved puppy. Dr. Thales was exactly the type of guy Owen always tried to avoid; the type that you found outrageously annoying but you didn't want to ignore for fear that you might hurt their feelings, which Owen, even with all of his carefully crafted tough guy persona, didn't have the heart to do.

Owen gave an awkward smile and half shrug. "S'alright. I'm fine." He wasn't about to show any weakness in front of a stranger, no matter how nerdy the guy was.

Claire gestured for Dr. Thales to take his seat again. The waiter arrived and took their orders. Claire ordered a salad and Dr. Thales ordered Invi Chicken, which was something Owen had never heard of or even seen on the menu.

"So you're a vet," Owen said, almost rather to himself than to the other man. He furrowed his brow. "Or are you a geneticist? Sorry, I wasn't paying that much attention," Honestly, he wanted to be polite, but in reality Owen had no interest at all in what this man had to say.

The doctor began to explain his complicated role at Jurassic World. Most of his rapid fire oration was lost on Owen. It wasn't that the hard sciences were confusing for Owen, or that he never learned them. This was simply from just how quickly the words came out of Dr. Thale's mouth.

' _Does this guy even need to breath?_ ' Owen thought as the doctor droned on about horizontal gene transfer and plasmid something or other. Owen glanced over to the beautiful redhead sitting across from him, who seemed to be enjoying Dr. Thales' complicated babble immensely. Her eyes glistened with amusement as she watched the two men have a mostly one-sided conversation. The doctor continued to elaborate on and on about the finer points of gene silencing, segueing into the topic of skin grafts.

"Wait!" Owen finally interrupted, his interested having been piqued at the two familiar words. "Did you say 'skin grafts'? Were you the vet that saved Echo?" The realization dawned on him, remembering a miracle worker vet having been mentioned more than once the previous day.

Dr. Thales at first seemed baffled that anyone would dare interrupt his lecture on the finer points of transgenesis, but then he brightened, seeming to realize that Owen's question would not hinder the opportunity to blather on about his career. "Yes, Echo, the velociraptor facsimile with full-thickness burns," he confirmed, his eyes lighting up at the chance to talk again. "She was a hard one, but I already had a few theories I was excited to test. Her case was quite unremarkable, really."

Owen nearly choked on his water. " _Unremarkable?!_ " Owen hissed, shutting up the doctor while also startling Claire from her quasi-daydream. "She was roasted alive, and you're here talking about experiments and theories like you never even cared what happened to her!"

Dr. Thales' expression shifted to one of both surprise and concern. Claire put a gentle hand on Owen's upper arm, becoming uneasy at the way his muscles were clenched under her touch. "Unremarkable is a good thing," Claire spoke finally, her voice soothing yet careful. "It's medical jargon for 'nothing bad happened'." She paused, her eyes searching for any sort of reaction in Owen's face. His muscles relaxed, though his face showed that he was still seething. She tightened her grip on his arm in reassurance. "Echo wasn't an experiment. She was just the first dinosaur to get a skin graft. We were all worried that she wouldn't survive."

Owen's eyes softened at Claire's words; hearing and seeing her tone change at the mention of Echo's close call with mortality was more than enough to hearten him.

"Yes, so sorry," the doctor interjected, sincere compassion apparent in his childlike features. "I sometimes forget my audience and end up sounding like a heartless bastard. I apologize if I upset you in any way." That kicked puppy look—the one that Owen was afraid would show up—spread across the doctor's face. "Great! I have alienated another T.E.D." He said, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe his own lack of interpersonal skills. "Claire, I believe you're correct. I am terrible with people."

Apparently she wasn't immune to the sad puppy eyes either. "I never said that!" Claire protested, removing her hand from Owen's arm, the warmth of her touch lingering for a moment.

Something had all of a sudden come to Owen's mind; the strange acronym that Dr. Thales and Claire had been referring to him the entire meal was never explained. "Okay, what the hell is a T.E.D.?"

It was like flipping a light switch; Dr. Thales was once again the fumbling professor, his eyes positively glowing with excitement at the notion of more explanation. "Theropod Enrichment Director," he beamed, the pride evident in his tone. "You're our new one. You see, our last one, well... Let's just say that he didn't get on with one of the assets. We have been without one for about four months now."

Owen felt hoodwinked. What had he gotten himself into? He was under the impression that he was only here to work with his girls again. He felt his blood simmering, finding himself not entirely surprised that the company would do something so devious. "I thought I was just getting my old job back?"

"Oh, you'll be much more than a mere handler; much more authority," Dr. Thales scoffed. "We need you to do what you did with the raptors for the rest of the theropods. Jurassic World is getting a face-lift and we are remaking it in your image."

Owen felt his face contort into an expression of skepticism. Claire once again placed her hand on Owen's arm. "What Tom means is that we want all of our dinosaurs to be as happy as your girls were." She said honestly, looking at him with awe and respect. Owen glanced over at the doctor, who sported a similar expression. It was Claire's eyes that did it for him though. He could never say 'no' to her when she looked at him in that way. Hell, he couldn't tell her 'no' when she looked at him in any sort of way, really.

"Okay," Owen conceded cautiously. "What'll I being doing as the new T.E.D.?"

Their food arrived. Owen's steak was perfect, Claire's salad was very green and Dr. Thales weird chicken look like chicken-y mush.

Between mouthfuls of food, Dr. Thales informed Owen on every detail of the new position. Once in a while Claire would interject, clarifying for Owen in words that the doctor was surprisingly unable to express. The man was like a walking thesaurus (Owen knew there was a joke in there somewhere about dinosaurs and a thesaurus but couldn't pursue that thought at the moment). His brain was having a hard enough time keeping up with doctor's incessant blathering.

Once their meal was eaten, Claire began making noise about some sort of late project that simply must be done right away. Immediately, Dr. Thales volunteered to take Owen around to meet all of his new charges, ignoring Owen's claims that he already knew the park fairly well.

Dr. Thales left a large tip for their server. As they were leaving Winston's, he turned to Claire. "Are we still on for our movie tonight, Beautiful?"

Claire blushed as she peeked over at Owen. "Oh, that was tonight wasn't it?" She questioned, her eyes darting between the two men. It was easy to tell that she was waiting for Tom to notice her distress and change their date... Was it a date? Towards the beginning of the lunch, when Dr. Thales had interrupted them and gave Claire the warm hug and kiss, Owen had felt the hot flare of jealousy rise in his chest. Dr. Thomas Thales may have been skinny and a tad bit eccentric, but Owen was not insecure enough to recognize that the doctor was a handsome man… in a sad, puppy kind of way.

Could Claire be with  _this guy_? Was that why she never got in contact with Owen before they needed him? Was she already in a relationship with this dillweed?

"Definitely," Claire answered biting her lip. "I can't wait."

Dr. Thales smiled his overly large smile. He slapped Owen on the back. "Alright Mr. Grady, are you ready to meet all your new charges?"

Owen's gut was telling him to say no, while the eager, naive expression on Dr. Thales' face was almost pleading otherwise. Before he had even realized what he had done, Owen reluctantly agreed. "Lead the way Dr. Thales."

"Please," the doctor's smile grew. "Call me Tom!"

* * *

 Tom was not a very safe driver; he took his turns too quickly and he hardly took his foot off of the accelerator, but Owen could appreciate a kindred spirit as he held onto the ' _Oh-Shit_ ' handle for dear life.

"I am so glad you are finally here," Tom yelled over the whining engine as a pothole launched the jeep into the air. "I have been after Claire to bring you in since we started." The jeep took a sharp left before coming to an abrupt halt, giving Owen a slight case of whiplash. "We're here!" the vet exclaimed as he turned off the engine. "The Therizinosaurus is our newest species of theropod." He stated, gesturing at the domed building ahead of them.

Owen jumped out of the jeep as quickly as he could get his seat-belt unbuckled. He turned back to Tom who was still in the driver seat tapping something into his tablet before returning his gaze back to the enclosure. "Therizinosaurus wouldn't draw that much of a crowd," Owen remarked as he sidestepped a muddy puddle. "Why them? I mean, most people haven't even heard of them." The air was hot and humid, making his skin feel sticky and his shirt cling to his back. Being on a tropical island may be some peoples' idea of the dream life, but sometimes Owen felt that he would rather be in a more temperate climate where the season changed once in a while.

"Everyone has their own idea of what species we should bring back," Tom chattered as he climbed out of the jeep, joining Owen in the oppressive Central American sun. "Mostly everyone wants the big bad monsters that scared us as children," he started toward the paddock, his eyes only barely leaving the tablet in his hand. "And we both know how well that has turned out in the past."

Owen followed the curly headed man power-walking up an incline to the gate, sealed with a computerized padlock with the number seven-four-six written on the side.

"But really, It's depends on what DNA we recover." Tom swiped his card and tapped a pin into the small keypad. "Most are so badly broken we can hardly tell if we re-made the animal it originally came from." The door opened, and a fresh blast of cold air came through the entrance, bringing with it a stench that Owen could not have prepared for. He gagged, trying to hold his breath. It was a fact that the dinosaurs here had their own specific odors, and not good ones at that, but this smell was in no way normal. Tom handed Owen a damp surgical mask as the vet brought a similar one to his own face.

"God damn! That stink!" Owen choked as he covered his own nose and mouth with the mask. The strangely textured material apparently was not wet with water but some sort of odor neutralizing chemical. Owen found that not only could he not smell the stench in the building but he could also breath quite comfortably.

"That would be Terri and Lola," Tom informed, noticing the way Owen's face had contorted. "Our brand new Therizinosaurs," Tom paused and tilted his head as if in contemplation. "Well, we  _think_. We recovered their DNA the old fashion way from amber encased mosquitoes." His voice was slightly muffled by the odor-filtering mask, but with his articulate dialect, Owen could understand every word. "Most of the DNA was decrepit, but as we have always done before, we substituted some similar genes from a closely related species. So, we hatched what we hoped is a fairly accurate representation of the Therizinosaurus."

Tom's eyes seemed to be laughing. "That smell is all them. Similar to the way a skunk uses it's spray, but instead of using it against predators when threatened, Therizinosaurus just marks her territory. It works as a repellent against predators as well as other herbivores. We have been collecting and testing the scent deterrent on many of the animal enclosures. We haven't found a species that will come near it." The last sentence came out as though Tom were immensely proud that they had found a smell that no living creature in their right mind would go near; as if it were some kind of accomplishment.

The air conditioner hummed loudly, sending out a surprisingly frigid breeze. It was cold in here, far colder than Owen had originally thought. "What's with the freezer?" Owen asked as he followed Tom up the frost covered metal stairway.

"Are you too cold? I'm so sorry. I should have offered you a jacket. I'm so used to just coming in here to escape the heat that I sometimes forget that for some this is far too cold." At the top of the stairs, a catwalk crossed the top of the animal enclosure. Owen followed the annoyingly energetic man across it. They stopped in the middle and Tom turned to face the new T.E.D. "When they hatched, the first few chicks died almost immediately." Even with Tom's mouth covered by the mask, Owen could tell from the vet's sad eyes that the event still upset him. "It so happens that these theropods are not suited for hot humid climates."

Tom pointed to the corner of the lower level. Owen swore his eyes were playing horrible tricks on him. There stood a fifteen-foot  _feathered_ dinosaur, munching lazily on the surrounding conifers. It looked like a joke; a not funny, stupid joke. The creature looked as if someone had crossed a raptor, a goose and a giant panda. It's outrageous four-foot claws he knew to expect but the funny looking black and white down that covered the beast looked far more ridiculous.

"Panda? Really?" He asked, feeling himself laughing at the absurdity. "That can't be natural." The horrible thought hit Owen like a cartoon anvil. "There isn't any panda in them is there?"

Tom stared for a second as if waiting for Owen to laugh and say he was joking. "No, the original Therizinosaurs  _were_  black and white, but we thought the best way to help guests understand the place these animals held in the ecosystem was to change the marking to be similar to their more recognizable modern equivalents." The large theropod turned around, revealing that it's tail was covered with markings similar to that of a skunks.

"Panda, to let them know that this species is related to other carnivora, but maintains a strictly herbivorous diet, and a skunk's markings to let our guests know why they smell so horrendous." Tom tapped again on his ever present tablet. "I will send you a report of all the necessary changes that were made on the theropods." He tapped a few more times. "Now we must say goodbye to these two lovelies and move on to the next habitat." With that, the two men headed back to the jeep. Before they left the building Tom took the deodorizing mask from Owen and placed it in a green bin while also disposing of his own.

Once out in the humid air, Tom passed his card through a reader and the door hissed shut. Owen took a deep breath, then paused, relieved at his ability to breath in fresh air.

"Fascinating isn't it?" Tom laughed, detecting just why Owen seemed so pleased, as he jumped into the driver seat. "The smell doesn't linger unless the oil gets on your skin. We are trying out different applications for it."

Once Owen was in the jeep, they took off at what Owen was certain was a hazardous speed. The rest of the tour wasn't as surprising. Most of the theropods were the same or looked the same as the ones from two years ago. The T-rex was back in her pen, happily munching on the goats that were given to her. The queen, appropriately named Elizabeth (or Lizzy for short), only briefly looked up at the men as they crossed the catwalk above her paddock, before losing interest. Like most of the other dinosaurs, she slept, like a stated animal in a zoo.

Tom explained that the way the previous T.E.D. had kept them in constant motion was to keep them hungry and give them an electric shock once in a while to boost their adrenaline.

"That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen," Owen scoffed.

"It was. And that's why we no longer have that person employed. And that is also why you are here. You are the best at what you do. You have proven your methods work better than other's techniques." Tom gave Owen a hopeful look. "You'll find alternative ways of keeping them happy. I know it."

"I really don't think I'm qualified for any of this." Owen said quietly as he rubbed the back of his neck, finding it difficult to look at Tom. The guy was making him sound like he was the leading expert in his field; a field that didn't really exist in the first place. "I don't think you have the right man. I know raptors because they're pack animals. Not all theropods are like them."

Tom laughed in a loud joyful whoop. "Don't you see?" he smiled his too big grin. "None of us are qualified for this. Everything we do here is new and we need people like you that can see how an animal is thinking; to see what a creature needs to be happy and healthy." Tom gave Owen a sincere look, before he smiled a wide smile and clapped Owen on his back. "Come I want you to meet my pride and joy."

Tom's pride and joy turned out to be an adolescent Allosaurus named Wendy, standing at about the same size of one of Owen's raptors. The juvenile was also one of the newer assets and was considered more "historically accurate," which apparently meant her head being covered in those stupid looking red feathers. Owen could tell why Tom was so proud of the youngling though. She greeted Tom with the same chirps and enthusiastic squawks that Blue and her sisters had once given Owen when they were small.

To Owen's surprise, Tom immediately began opening the safety gate to her pen. Upon the clicking of the last latch, the dinosaur pounced. Owen's immediate reaction would have been to run in and save the idiot, but as he watched the interaction, he saw the way Wendy rubbed her snout affectionately against Tom's curly hair. The memory of Delta doing the same thing when she was the size of a cat came to mind. But although Wendy was still a baby, and would only get bigger, she was definitely not the size of a small house cat. Owen was unable to help the unease he felt watching a human willingly enter a cage with something that at any moment might decide he looked pretty tasty.

Tom was laughing his loud annoying laugh; Wendy squawking, honking, and chittering at the vet. Her mouth opened in what could be mistaken as a smile, Owen immediately recognizing it as an expression that the raptors used in play.

"You can come in too," Tom assured, beckoning Owen to go through the gate. "She is quite tame, really. One of our smarter moves was to give the newer carnivores a dislike for the taste of mammals. She only eats in vitro turkey meat. We even trained her to ask for it. Well not 'ask' so much as perform a trick when she's hungry." Tom had begun to preen the red plumage on the dino's neck. Wendy leaned against his hand, cooing in content. "We added a few other more docile species into her genome, and cut out some nasty genes, so that she's much more cuddly!" He said as he gently tugged at her feathers.

Something about that information didn't quite sit well with Owen, his stomach turning in unease. The creature in front of him wasn't an Allosaurus so much another genetically modified hybrid meant for show. Hasn't anyone learned that playing with and manipulating the genes of an extinct animal was like playing Russian roulette? What other creatures were spliced into this chimera in order to get such docile behavior? What would happen as she got older? Some creatures are cute and cuddly when they're small, but once sexual maturity hits, they become unpredictable.

Tom noticed Owen's disapproval and stopped his preening of the young dinosaur. "What's wrong?" Wendy did not seem to appreciate the loss of grooming and snapped lightly at Tom's hand.

"We will never learn will we?" Owen said under his breath as he shook his head. He spoke again, his voice increasing in volume. "Playing God? Is that what this is about? Playing with the genes of an animal until you have just an overgrown parrot?" Owen threw his hands up and looked around the enclosure. " _This._ " He seethed, gesturing to Wendy. " _This_  is what everyone didn't want to happen!  _This_  is what Masrani corp promised wouldn't happen again. No more dinosaur hybrids. No more genetic monstrosities!"

Tom's face contorted into one mixed with confusion and hurt. He stood and faced Owen. "Every animal in this park is some sort of hybrid. Every single one of them is a genetic mirror of what we  _think_  the dinosaurs looked like. We have been manipulating the genes of other animals since the dawn of history; we've been using selective breeding. All we have done is change the way we select traits. Instead of breeding it, we create it.

"Owen, I know you don't like us 'Playing God,' but the way I see it, God gave us the ability to understand his code of life. Then he gave us the ability to  _change_  the code, and when we found DNA in the fossils, these artifacts of a lost world, that by all rights should have been deteriorated millions of years ago, I can't help but feel that it's because God wants us to see his creations." By the end of his self-righteous speech, Tom was standing face to face with Owen, nothing but the enclosure bars between them.

Owen scoffed, incredulity lacing his voice. "Are you serious? You think you're on a mission from God to create dinosaurs? Are you insane?" Owen began walking back to the jeep, muttering, "I think I'm done with the Island of the Crazy."

"Owen," Tom sighed, gently nudging a whining Wendy out of the way, and pushed through the safety gate. "Don't take me for a religious zealot. I am not on some crusade to make dinosaurs for God. I just happen to be a religious man who loves all of God's creatures. I may sound crazy to you, but I promise I am not helping to create these animals to make more money for Masrani. I am helping to show the world the beauty of life."

Owen snorted, looking away from the softly intense man. "Just take me back to the Center."

The ride back was more subdued and far less frightening. Tom seemed to sense that his earlier driving was not the best way to prove his sanity to the man. The silence was awkward and the atmosphere tense; Owen couldn't stand it. Had he overreacted? He had known that the dinosaurs at the park were all  _technically_  hybrids, and from what he had seen, the new genetic creations weren't made to be the ultimate killing machines. In a way, their creation was far more honorable. Still, genetically manipulating animals rubbed Owen the wrong way. After all, the incident with the Indominus was the catalyst of his nightmares for two years. However, even with the GMO dinosaurs, Owen could see that Tom had a good heart and seemed to have the creature's best interest in mind.

"Look," Owen said, breaking the silence. "I can tell you're good at your job. What you did for Echo is amazing, really. It's amazing what you've done for all the animals. I get that what you are trying to do is in your mind a 'gift for humanity,' but if I see one wonky thing, I'm out."

"Okay," Tom paused. He glanced over at Owen and bit his lip nervously. "In that case. I will be honest, so you know I'm not trying to hide anything from you. A 'wonky thing' that has been going on."

Owen was about to give Tom his goodbye speech he had been composing in his mind, but Tom continued. "Before you start, let me explain.

"Recently many of our assets have been getting sick, developing a wide range of symptoms. Heart failure, asthma, tumors, among many other terrible ailments." Tom said, his voice growing mournful. "It's the strangest thing. At first I thought our yearly vaccinations may have missed some disease or another, but that can't be it. They're also exclusively getting sick one at a time. If it were an infectious illness, I would be having multiple cases on my hands. The last one was the Trike, who died this morning. From symptoms to death takes no more than six-to-eight hours."

Tom didn't take his eyes of the road as he told his passenger what he had been trying to keep secret from most of the park employees. Owen watched the man closely, still unable decide if he actually liked him or not. On one hand he seemed to be genuinely a good man, doing something that he loved, but on the other hand he was just a bit crazy… But weren't crazy people just looking at the world with a different perspective?

Tom had stress lines on his open, kind face. His eyes were full of warmth and worry. ' _God Dammit!'_  Owen thought. ' _Why is it so hard for me to hate this guy?_ '

"Could it be poison or something they're eating that's making them sick?" Owen's concern over the dinosaurs winning out over his frustration with the park's head vet. "I remember reading that the original park had a problem with certain plants being consumed."

Tom glanced over at his passenger, appearing thankful that Owen seemed to be worried as well. "I wish it were that simple, but I've had a few carnivora who have passed the same way. I've run several different tox screenings and so far nothing has come up."

They both thought in silence for a few minutes before Tom's phone chirped. "That must be Claire," the vet huffed and grabbed his cell.

Owen stiffened in his seat, casually attempting to sneak a peek at the text message. Something was going on between Tom and Claire... At least it seemed that way on the surface; he needed to go deeper. As smart as Tom seemed when it concerned genetics, he came off as a bit naive when it came to people. Owen figured he could use the man's too trusting personality to his advantage.

"So, what's the movie tonight?" Owen asked. At Tom's confused look, Owen went ahead and stretched the truth a bit more. "Claire said the three of us were going to watch a movie later or something?"

Tom continued to look confused, but quickly changed his expression to one of genuine welcome. "That sounds fantastic! We are meeting at her's around eight o'clock to watch the new documentary about humpback whales!"

' _Dammit this guy is so nice,_ ' thought Owen, finding it difficult to ignore the guilt that had come with pulling such a stunt. He almost felt bad for Tom.  _Almost_. "Sounds like a great time."

If it were possible, Tom's smile only grew wider. 

' _Too nice...'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ARE YOU READY FOR SOME ANGST???


	5. Third Wheel

In hindsight, Owen had known that becoming the third party of Tom and Claire's movie night was a disaster waiting to happen; but he also knew that would be something he would have to risk. If watching a documentary on the migration habits of humpback whales and invading what could possibly be a date, meant learning the extent of Claire's relationship with Tom, then damn it, he could definitely chance it.

Really, the whole thing could end a number of ways, most of which Owen could already see happening in the near future, and only a fraction of  _those_  actually ending happily. In fact, it was much more likely that Claire would be too infuriated to even consider speaking to him. He knew she wasn't one for surprises, especially ones that involved Owen Grady.

Owen knew all of this, and still he followed Tom through the employee apartment complex, his heart beat increasing in tempo with each step he took. If Owen were being completely honest, he was nervous as hell. There was a sharp, nagging voice in his head, torturing him with the idea that Tom was much more than a close friend. The recent memory of the warm embrace Tom and Claire had shared, followed by that disgustingly tame peck on the cheek caused another pang of confusion mixed with anger to shoot through him. It wasn't jealousy… yet. Well, at least he thought it wasn't. After all, Tom had so willingly welcomed Owen to join them. Clearly there wasn't anything to be jealous about.

Right?

Lost in his internal monologue, Owen had failed to realize that Tom had been speaking the entire time.

"...really, it's quite fascinating. Did you know that the mothers will swim close to their young, often touching them with one of their flippers as a sign of affection?" The curly headed man asked eagerly, allowing Owen to go ahead of him before leaping into the elevator. He pushed the button to the tenth floor before continuing spouting his fountain of whale knowledge. "Also the males will—" Tom stopped, seeing the blank expression on Owen's face. "Oh, nevermind. I won't spoil it for you."

The quiet  _ding_ signaled end of the lift. Owen followed as Tom stepped out, not entirely listening to the doctor as he expressed his excitement for the evening. They finally came to a residence numbered 1058; Tom rapped lightly on the mahogany door, waiting and listening patiently for any sign of life in the apartment. There was no answer. Tom thought for a moment, before burying his hands in his pockets. In a matter of seconds, he pulled from them a lanyard weighed down by at least a dozen keys. The realization hit Owen like the Brockway Monorail.

A  _key_.

The man had a _key._

Tom had a  _key_  to Claire's apartment.

Before Owen could even think about allowing himself to panic, he began rationalizing why exactly Tom would have such easy access to this woman's home. Maybe he had done some house sitting and simply forgot to give the key back. People normally gave their strictly platonic friends keys to their homes, right?  _They also give their boyfriends keys._  Owen watched in subdued horror as Tom casually unlocked the door and waltzed right in.

Owen had to give himself a moment before following Tom inside. He could feel his stomach doing cartwheels as he walked through the door.

"Claire?" Tom called out as they stepped into the lavish foyer.

The nagging voice returned, telling Owen to get the hell out of there. He elected to ignore it, instead drowning himself in a false sense of certainty. Running would not solve this. No, he would have to find out for himself. Owen Grady was no coward, and dammit, he wanted answers!

The apartment was (unsurprisingly) quite spacious. Being the Senior Asset Manager at Jurassic World certainly had its perks. The white walls matched with the elegant furnishings certainly added to the high-end atmosphere of the place. He found himself wandering into the living room, half-expecting it to feel impersonal. What he felt was the exact opposite. Amongst the abstract paintings and decoration, there was a small series of shelves, riddled with picture frames, varying in size and subject. He caught himself smiling at one in particular; Claire was clad in a thick snow-suit, standing in-between her nephews Zach and Gray. Owen could tell that this was a more recent photo, perhaps on one of their recent ski trips to Colorado. The smile on Claire's face in the picture brought a warmth to Owen's heart, briefly able to subdue his earlier qualms.

The footsteps coming from behind Owen pulled him back into reality.

"Ah!" Tom said, plucking a neatly folded note up from the coffee table. "She's gone to get more refreshments. How thoughtful of her!"

Owen fought the urge to roll his eyes, one of Claire's habits that had rubbed off on him in their time together, instead electing to bottle up his annoyed state. He put the frame down before turning back around, leaning against the bookshelf.

"Are you thirsty, Owen? Would you like something to drink?" Tom asked, setting the note down before making his way to the kitchen, preparing a cup of tea for himself.

"Nah, I'm—" Owen stopped, coming to the horrible realization that this man had been effortlessly navigating his way around the spacious apartment without a second thought the entire time. "I'm good." A strange imaginary weight began pushing forcefully on Owen's shoulders.  _Close friends. Just close friends._

Tom emerged from the kitchen, a cup of tea in hand. He shivered, the frigid nature of the apartment almost matching that of the one in the Therizinosaurus enclosure. "She always keeps it so cold in here!" He exclaimed, placing the small cup on the coffee table, his eyes brightening as if a light bulb had just blinked on over his head. "I'll be right back."

What started as a look of bewilderment on Owen's face as he watched Tom descending into the hallway and into what appeared to be the master bedroom, instantly fell into a blank, mildly shocked expression upon seeing Tom return with a light  _men's_  cardigan.

_Just close friends._

"I knew there was a good reason for leaving this here!" The man said, beaming from ear to ear as he offered the piece of clothing to Owen, who almost instantly rejected the kind action with a shake of his head.

Not appearing to be phazed by the brush-off, Tom pulled the sweater on for himself. "I wonder if…" He said, trailing off as he turned around back into the hallway. "Ah, there it is!" His voice sounded throughout the apartment. He reemerged, a thin red and white stick in his hand. "I was hoping this was still here! I hate eating popcorn without having a way to brush my teeth afterwards."

Owen had to suppress the bile rising in his throat; the man kept a goddamn toothbrush here.

_Just... close… friends..._

"Owen, are you alright?" Tom asked, his brows furrowing slightly in concern.

A melting pot of emotions had been simmering within Owen, now slowly rising to a boil. There was jealousy, anger, and denial, but there was also hurt, and as carefully constructed his stony exterior was, a smidgen of what he felt began seeping through. The white hot pain of envy brewing in his chest and in the pit of his stomach; the clench of his jaw in anger; the nagging voice turning into one of denial. "I'm fine."

Tom looked down for a moment, unsure of what to say. His self-aware awkwardness was short lived, having dissolved after only a moment. The same, cheery, too-big smile stretched across his childish face, as if to say he was there to listen.

Owen wanted to punch him.

The doctor took Owen's silence in stride, as he disappeared into the hallway once again, returning the offending toothbrush to the bathroom. "I hope you don't mind if I visit the facilities!" He called as he shut and locked the door.

The sound of another lock clicking and hinges opening were enough to bring Owen out of his angry state, only to have the anxiousness return. Claire was home. The cartwheels his stomach had been doing were now full on back handsprings. This was not going to be easy, but Owen had dealt with and sufficiently handled worse situations. He was good at this; being scared shitless on the inside, all while remaining cool and collected on the outside. It was a skill he had acquired over many years of experience, both with people and animals alike.

Heels tapping lightly across the wood floor accompanied by the crinkling sound of a brown paper bag echoed throughout the apartment. It was as if she were purposefully taking her time, as if she were consciously trying to drive Owen up the wall. "Tom?" Her voice rang out from somewhere in the vast penthouse.

The man in question almost immediately called back out. "Yes, in here," he answered through the closed door of the bathroom, his voice distorted and muffled.  _Is he brushing his teeth?_

Owen held his breath as he listened for the tapping of heels. In his new-found false confidence, he quickly propped his feet on the coffee table in front of him, frantically trying to appear as relaxed and normal as possible.

He felt his speeding heart nearly stop as Claire walked purposefully into the room, her eyes glued to her phone. "I'm sorry, I'm late," she apologized. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to find—" Her eyes nearly popped out of her head at the sight of Owen Grady lounging comfortably on her couch, his dirt-ridden boots propped up on the low table. "Owen!"

There was a small sense of satisfaction as he witnessed the woman come undone for the briefest of moments. Even while being a nervous pile of  _something_ , Owen still found time to take joy in watching Claire squirm. Under normal circumstances, he would have found her bewildered expression adorable. "Hello, Claire."

For the second time in one day, Claire found herself speechless. It took her a moment to realize that Tom had entered the room, only half-heartedly returning the warm embrace he wrapped her in. "Hello, Gorgeous!" Tom greeted, his words falling on deaf ears, Claire's eyes never leaving Owen's.

Tom released her gently before turning to see what had her attention in such a vice like grip. Owen gave a small wave at the two, his lips twitching upward for a moment. Tom returned the weak attempt at a smile with bright beaming. "Owen's here too!" He excitedly announced as if it were big news, turning his attention back to the woman. "I'm so glad you invited him, Claire! We're going to have such fun!"

"Yes…" Claire's confused look drastically transformed to one of subdued anger, her eyes narrowing pointedly at the man relaxing on the sofa.

Owen gave an innocent shrug in return, expertly hiding the internal panic that had been brewing within him.

Not having noticed the sudden change in atmosphere, Tom volunteered to prepare the refreshments for the evening as he disappeared into the kitchen. Claire made sure the wait before the doctor was completely out of the room before dealing with her intruder. "What are you doing here, Owen?" She whispered fiercely, quiet enough so that the cheery man in the other room couldn't hear.

In all honesty, Owen was surprised at how soon this was going to start. Lowering his feet onto the wood floor, he leaned forward where he sat. "Well, I was offered a pretty nice pay raise," he replied innocently.

" _Chardonnay?_ " Tom called out from the kitchen. " _My Darling Dearing, you didn't have to! And this is literally my favorite wine!"_

Claire ignored Tom's excited babbling, intensely focused on Owen. "You know what I meant!" While her voice was soft, the words were no less biting.

There was a loud gasp from the other room. " _Brie? Oh, you were listening! These go great together! All we need now is some almonds and dark choc..._ " the vet continued jabbering.

As the doctor went on monologuing, a beat of increasingly tense silence passed between the Owen and Claire. The red-head being too angry to form coherent sentences, and Owen being too damn nervous to even remember what words were. He was only able to say the first thing that came to his mind. "Tom invited me," the words had come out of Owen's mouth before he even had time to realize what he had said. He cringed inwardly at the pathetic attempt at an answer.

Looking up, he realized he was not the only one unsatisfied with the poor excuse. Claire folded her arms across her chest, her lips pressing into a thin line, clearly unimpressed. "Oh really?"

Owen opened his mouth to answer, but was immediately cut off by Tom rushing into the room and grabbing his keys from the coffee table. "I'm so sorry," He said, his voice urgent. "I've just received a text about an asset showing symptoms. A poor Stego's has developed a fever, and she's fainted," he began hastening out of the room once again, not before planting a kiss on Claire's red-with-anger cheek. "Please excuse me, but I really must go! Enjoy the movie without me. I have already seen it, twice."

Without too many more words, Tom had left; Owen and Claire were now completely alone. What had once been a vast apartment had now turned into the most confining space they had ever been in. Owen felt as if the apartment were growing hotter than the island itself, now finding the white leather of the couch unbearably warm. He rose, the icy glare coming from the redhead burning into his skin.

"I cannot believe I have to ask this again," Claire started, now allowing her voice to project at its normal volume. "Why are you here?"

"Am I missing something here?" Owen answered Claire's question with his own, suddenly feeling self-conscious and a tad-bit defensive. He gestured to the door as if Tom were still here. "What do you even  _see_  in him?"

It was apparent that his forward inquisition had caught Claire off-guard; for a fraction of a second, her resolve faltered slightly. Just as quickly as the weakness appeared, it vanished. She tilted her head in exasperation. "What?"

The frustration that had been bubbling within Owen began to show through. "Come on, Claire. The guy's an idiot!" It was absolutely mind-boggling to him that Claire was unable to realize that. "And I'm pretty sure he's gay. Who even likes brie?"

What had at first been an expression of hurt turned into one of angry confusion. "First of all, you have  _no right_  to talk about Tom that way," She snapped. "Second of all, Tom is a brilliant man!"

"He's  _insane_."

"So he's eccentric! But he's the smartest man I ever met! He's helped me—Us so much this last year... What he has done for the park, for everyone in it… You don't understand!"

Owen had decided that if anyone didn't understand, it was Claire. She didn't understand how parading her new boytoy around was affecting Owen; she didn't understand the anguish he was feeling right at this moment as he heard her defend man who had obviously stolen her heart. He felt his fists clench, his knuckles turning white under the pressure. One could argue that he was overreacting, that there was nothing to be angry at, but there was no denying the evidence that had been practically waved in front of his face.

"What the  _hell_  is your problem?" Claire demanded.

"My problem?" He scoffed as he placed a shaking hand on his chest. For the first time that evening, Owen felt his eyes begin to burn; either from frustration, anger, or hurt, he didn't know. He was too much of a mess of emotions to tell. "What happened, Claire? What happened to waiting? What happened to sticking together for survival?"

The rapid-fire questions were enough to stun Claire in her place. "I—Those were  _your_  words, Owen.  _You_  said that."

Owen hadn't heard her defense, as he was already lost in his own words. "I thought when everything settled down… I thought we would try..." His yelling had died down, his voice growing mournful.

Claire's arms tightened around her chest, looking anywhere but Owen's face. Taking a deep breath, she began unconsciously rubbing her upper arms as a way of self-comfort. "Our relationship was based off of an adrenaline high and a heat of the moment. It would have been pointless to even try."

Owen felt as if he had just been kicked in the chest with a nude stiletto. He exhaled in disbelief. "What are you talking about?  _Adrenaline high_?  _Heat of the moment_?" That she was finding it so easy to write off something so significant was a betrayal on its own. While it was true that their relationship only truly blossomed after having been nearly killed together more than once, Owen couldn't help but feel that they would have come together even without the not-so-gentle nudge the incident provided. "Claire, what we have is real."

"What we  _had_  was just flirtation with each other and with death."

At her words, Owen felt the same kick to the chest. How could she say that? Where would she have gotten the idea that there was nothing between them besides some innocent flirting? "What are you saying?" He asked, moving towards her. That question had been spoken out loud, though Owen was having a hard time telling at this point. "Can you hear yourself?" He was now mere inches away from her, neither one of them daring to back down. "Claire," He said, finally coercing his tone to be more stern. She looked up at him expectantly, her careful stony exterior starting to crack under his pressure. "It was never just playing games. Yeah, flirting was definitely a part of what we had, but it was never the whole thing," His hands had made there way to her, resting them on her arms as if to stabilize himself. "I've always admired you for being so strong, so beautiful inside and out. I know you think that we would have never been together at all if it weren't for that damn monster, but I don't feel that way. Hell Claire, I've been crazy about you since that first day you yelled at me for not turning my reports in. And I was still crazy after our first date."

Claire stood in sad silence, now finding it increasingly difficult to look the intense man in the eye, her chin quivering ever so slightly. "Owen—"

"Just… Listen," A heavy, shaky sigh escaped him; he lowered his voice to merely above a whisper. "Claire, I didn't come back to this island for the stupid job. I didn't come back for the ridiculous pay raise. I didn't come back for the dinosaurs," Owen took a strand of copper colored hair in his hand, brushing it back gently behind her ear. He felt his heart breaking even more at the few tears that were welling in her eyes. "I came back for  _you_."

She was baffled. Why Owen would come back just for her she didn't understand. Even after all Claire had been through, she was not one to think too often with her heart, her actions being driven mostly by logic and thought. The idea that this man would take the risk as a way to be with her seemed foolish. "What on Earth would posses you to do that, Owen?"

He scoffed, as if her ignorance was impossible. How had she not known? "I lov—"

"No!" Claire stopped him before he could even finish that last thought, shrugging his hands off of her. She would not let him ruin everything with those three words. "There were a lot of feelings, Owen, I get it," She found herself having difficulty saying these next words. "But we didn't make sense, Owen. We  _don't_  make sense."

Owen stepped backwards, creating more distance between the two. The hurt in his voice was reverting back to the earlier anger and jealousy. "Oh, and you and Dr. Dillweed do?" He snapped.

"What?" Claire honestly didn't understand Owen. Tom was such a kind and gentle spirit, who didn't deserve this sudden wave of ruthless ridicule. The pure anger flashing across Owen's face at the moment revealed the jealousy that had previously been well-hidden. "Oh my God, Owen! Are you serious right now? Is that what this is about?"

"I just want to know!"

She felt her jaw clench in frustration, angry tears threatening to cascade down her cheek. "You invite yourself into my apartment, you have the nerve to even show up here at all, you verbally attack my friend which you expect me to be okay with, and now you're  _demanding_  answers?"

"Friend?" Owen asked skeptically, his voice tainted with sarcasm. "Is that what you're calling him? You gotta keep it on the down low? Is that what you _like_? Forbidden fruit?"

Claire instantly fell silent, having the turn her head away, not wanting Owen to see the few stray tears fall; he didn't deserve that satisfaction. She wasn't crying in sadness, at least not completely. No, this was much worse. The main element had turned into irritation and resentment. There was no consoling tears of frustration and anger.

The very same tense, strained dull roar of silence crashed over once again.

"Tom is an amazing man. He likes me agendas. He likes my organization," Claire found herself saying for reasons even she didn't know.

Owen scoffed. "Ooh, he likes organization. That sounds so romantic," he sneered. "Nothing screams 'love,' like a well thought out spreadsheet."

"See? This is what I'm talking about, Owen. You don't  _get_  me."

Owen stopped, falling utterly silent. The disarray of emotions that moved through him were becoming unbearable. If he wasn't careful, he would say something he'd regret. "Oh, no, I think I do," he half-smiled, though not out of amusement or happiness. "You'd rather play pretend than have anything real."

And there it was.

"I think you need to leave," Claire suddenly grew very quiet. She didn't want to talk about this anymore, and neither did he; but both were too stubborn to let go. They both wanted,  _needed_ , to have the last word. Owen's cruel remarks had struck a chord within her. She had known bringing him back to the island would be difficult, she knew it would cause some tension, but nothing had prepared her for the disaster that this would turn out to be. She hadn't recalled the last time she had been so angry and confused with someone.

"I think you need to find yourself a new T.E.D.," Owen turned, stomping towards the foyer.

For a moment Claire was pleased to see him turn away, but a cold panic quickly replaced the relief. Promptly, she chased after him; the threat of losing him too great. In all honesty, at this point she wasn't sure if the park or herself would suffer more. "Owen don't be like that," She reached out, grabbing his arm. He tensed under her touch, stopping in his tracks. He turned to face her, green eyes watching her with cold anticipation. "The park needs you," she breathed, his silence making her more uneasy than anything.

"The park?" he asked quietly, as if he didn't completely believe her words.

She swallowed, suddenly aware of their close proximity. " _We_  need you."

"We?"

Claire remained mute, not eager to let feelings get in the way of what was supposed to be a professional relationship, though it was arguably a little late for formalities at that point in time.

Owen chuckled ironically, only adding to the confusion Claire felt at that moment. "You know," he said, his laughter dying. "I kinda wish you'd told me before I flew all the way out here. Moving on ain't easy."

She furrowed her brow at his words, the sentiment this man was displaying becoming almost sickening. "Why would you care?" she asked honestly. She really didn't know. Owen had never really been a man to wear his emotions on his sleeve, so seeing this vulnerable side of him was quite jarring.

"Why would you even ask that?" He asked, his tone filled with hurt.

"Well, you never called, for one," Claire had sworn she wouldn't bring this into it; she had promised herself that it would not get in the way of their interactions. There were times where she told herself that it didn't bother her anymore, but the venom in her voice at that moment revealed how she felt.

If Owen were being honest, he wouldn't have expected Claire to use that against him, and if he recalled correctly, she had been the one to say that they would get in touch.  _She_  had ended things, not the other way around.  _She_  was the one who said that they both needed space; he only agreed as a way to prevent any more pain than necessary. And now she had moved on, almost completely reverting back to what she had been before the incident; the progress they had made with their relationship having now gone to waste. "Well,  _my_  phone rang lots of times over the past year, but it was never you." He stepped away from her, the emotional toll becoming too great to handle.

He yanked his arm away, his other hand on the doorknob, only to be stopped once again by Claire's desperate grip. "Owen, please. You're upset. Don't make any rash decisions."

He kept his hand on the door, not bothering to turn and face the distraught woman. "That's perfect, coming from you," he muttered, though loud enough so that she would hear. " _Never base anything important on how you feel_ …"

The grip on his arm loosened, the weight of what he had just said crashing down onto Claire. The hurt in his voice twisted her stomach; a white hot pain searing through her chest. Her hand dropped to her side, the air in the room becoming uncomfortably close. "Owen—"

"I'll talk to you tomorrow, Claire."

"Will you be leaving?"

Owen opened the door, still not turning around to speak to her. "Let me sleep on it."

* * *

But Owen had hardly slept at all that night, tossing and turning in his bed, what had happened that evening playing over and over in his head. It had gone so much worse than he had anticipated; to a degree, he knew that there would be tension, hell he even knew there would be some arguing, but nothing like what had actually taken place. The yelling, the tears, the hurt feelings, they were all amplified to an intensity that made it feel like it was still happening, that he was being forced to relive it. Somehow, he knew he would end up staying. The sad truth was that there wasn't much else for him to do. The only positive aspect of this whole thing was working with Blue and Echo. 

As real as the argument felt in that moment, it also felt like a dream… or a nightmare. Owen couldn't believe what had taken place, the things that were said. Tom really was a nice guy, but Owen  _wanted_  to hate him, but the fact that the doctor's genuine personality made hating the man that much more difficult only fueled Owen's hatred. The way Claire had defended the doctor spoke volumes about the nature of their relationship. But as angry as Owen felt, the remorse was almost enough for him to call Claire and apologize, but he thought better of it. As much as it pained for him to say it, they both needed time. He glanced over at the clock on his nightstand.

 _2:00._  He would have to be up in three hours.

Covering his head in his hands, he groaned in frustration, both from the lack of sleep and from the falling-out. With a final toss and turn, he closed eyes, wishing that sleep would just take him right there.

On the other side of the island, a certain redhead was also trapped in a restless night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Also, thank you to those giving kudos and comments. You guys are great. :)
> 
> Just gonna let you know, I will be going on vacation starting tomorrow, so updates will be less frequent. That is all.


	6. A Novel Experience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm back from vacation! Always remember... sunblock is important. 
> 
> FYI this chapter is not romantic. At all. You have been warned. 
> 
> Enjoy! :)

Being professional during the following week had been no easy task for Owen. He was still driven by the blatant jealousy he felt for Tom and the aching sadness he felt for Claire. But although his thoughts and feelings were having a strong effect on his actions, he was still able to hold together a stony exterior in the presence of Claire and Tom.

It wasn't easy though. There were times during the past seven days that Owen would want to apologize for what he had said that night, but he knew better. Talking to Claire at this point in time would only make things worse for them both.

For once, Owen was thinking logically instead of emotionally.

It was obvious that nothing would ever get done if he didn't cooperate. It was also obvious that he really was needed here, though truthfully not in ways he had hoped for. The incompetence of some of the new handlers was absolutely mind-boggling, especially in the raptor department. As well as the obvious fact that he was needed here, the knowledge that Echo was alive and with Blue was enough to make Owen stay. His girls needed him, and even though his new job entailed working with more than just the raptors, he would always be sure to make his time with them longer than average.

A week had passed, allowing Owen numerous chances to get used to life as Jurassic World's new Theropod Enrichment Director. It really wasn't all that difficult, contrary to what he had thought previously upon receiving said job. All that he had to do was to make sure that the animals were thriving; mentally, emotionally, and physically, and when an animal seemed to be on the lower side of things, it was just a matter of pinpointing exactly what had them in such a rut, and making some small changes here and there to improve morale.

Even though the job was easy, that did not necessarily mean that it was without trial and error. Some ideas worked and some didn't.

Lizzie the T-Rex, for instance, did  _not_  like the change in her diet of goats. Tom had suggested switching out the mammals for something different, such as the in vitro meat that was fed to some of the newer assets. It was also his idea to perhaps hide the food around her habitat to promote hunting and foraging. These alterations only resulted in Lizzie going on a two-day fast in protest. She was much too old for such trivial attempts.

They quickly returned to the "goat-on-a-string" method.

Baryonyx and Suchomimus, two similar species, received larger pools for their enclosures, and a wider variety of diet. Before, they had been fed mainly fish that were local to the island, but were now fed all sorts of water-dwelling animals. That was all some of the dinosaurs needed; a slight change in diet or habitat. Some of the dinosaurs were given puzzle feeders in the hopes of making obtaining food that much more time consuming and rewarding.

Some animals, Owen noticed, merely needed a change in companionship, such as the park's only, and very lonely, Metriacanthosaurus, Milly. Surprisingly, this time, Tom's suggestion of playdates with Wendy the Allosaur, went very well. They had not been placed in the same enclosure as of yet. But, the docile Wendy was easily led to and from Milly's habitat. The Metriacanthosaurus was always excited to see the younger dino and was already out of her depression she had spent years in.

After only a week of doing his new job, Owen began to feel a small sense of accomplishment. The idea that the dinosaurs', both new and old, happiness was being put first before everything else was encouraging. It was clear that Jurassic World was only trying to prevent any incidents or mistakes in the future, their first step being to make sure that none of the animals went insane. In a way, it was working. While there was still so much left for Owen to do, the dinosaurs that he had been able to help this week were improving, even if the smallest amount.

Owen also found the work to be enjoyable; working with these animals was rewarding. One particular asset that he had started out sickened by, slowly had begun to grow on him. Though Wendy the Allosaurus was a combination of everything Owen despised about the genetics department of this park, he found himself actually starting to like her. She would chirp happily as he neared her enclosure, bobbing her head up and down hoping to grab his attention. It was not even the second day that Owen found himself willingly entering her pen.

Wendy would bounce around in excitement, eager to get to play with her new friend. Owen found that the clicker training he had used with the raptors worked well with the Allosaur, even though her intellect was vastly different than that of Blue and Echo. Wendy could solve simple puzzles easily, squawking in excitement as Owen tossed her another piece of the fake-meat. She would then ram her head against Owen's side, nearly knocking him over as she nuzzled into his chest.

It was by complete accident that Owen learned of Wendy's love for the game of 'catch.'

Owen and his new team of handlers had been clearing out part of Wendy's enclosure. He had found what he hoped would be a useful enrichment device. They had been tossing sticks and fallen branches out of his way. At first Wendy just watched, her eyes following their every move. She then began to watch the path of flying debris. When one branch happen to fly close by she went to investigate. Owen watched as she sniffed at the stick and pick it up only to drop it as another stick flew past. She repeated this for awhile going to and from thrown branches. Finally, one stick flew close enough for her to catch it. This made Owen laugh out loud. Wendy quickly dropped her prize and raced to him. Owen grabbed a nearby fallen branch and held it out for her. At first Wendy only squawked, and tilted her head in confusion. Owen lobbed the stick into the air. Immediately, Wendy went into action, leaping up and catching the branch easily. With a loud crunch, she destroyed the stick. Owen quickly wrote a note on his tablet to get a sturdier chew toy for them to use, and started looking for another branch to play with.

As much as Owen hated to admit it, Tom's pride and joy Wendy was growing on him.

Owen's first and last stop everyday was the raptor enclosure, making sure that he didn't spend any less time with them than normal. It was important for the alpha to be present with the pack, even if only for a few hours in the day. They'd return to what the pack was before the incident; their days consisting of scent drills, hide and seek, and even some new puzzles. It was more difficult than normal, as Echo's scars and burns would hinder her performance in these trials. They would only get so far before her fatigue would set in, Echo stumbling slightly in her steps, Blue immediately sensing that her pack-mate needed help.

It was both heartening and difficult for Owen to watch the two raptors behave in such a way; Blue standing utterly still as Echo leaned against her for support. He didn't dare punish Blue for abandoning any of the tasks at hand to tend to Echo. He knew they were just doing what they had to for survival, and he knew that preventing Blue from following a base instinct would not bode well for him.

Today was one of those days.

"Alright, ladies, we're moving," Owen called, moving across the catwalk above the raptors, two sets of golden eyes following his movements. There wasn't even a second thought before they instantly moved with him, careful not to let him out of their sight.

Owen felt his lips twitch upward into a small smile as Blue and Echo froze in their places below him. "Good!" He switched his gaze to the grey raptor, pointing at her with his free hand. "Blue, to the right."

_ClickClickClick._

Blue snapped to attention at the sound of the clicker, darting off to the right side of the enclosure.

"There we go," Owen praised, tossing a small rat in her direction. "Now stay there." He turned to the other raptor, pressing the clicker as he did so. "Echo," He called. "To the left."

Echo stood still for a moment, snarling slightly at the order. They had been working for almost an hour now, and her impatience was now becoming quite obvious. Owen knew that pushing her limits could be harmful, but he also knew that it could be potentially beneficial for her. Everyday, they would increase the amount of time they spent on their fundamentals.

_ClickClick._

"Echo, come on!" Owen raised his tone to a more assertive one, though being careful not to edge on the aggressive side.

Begrudgingly, Echo started to comply. She slowly moved to the left, having a difficult time actually finding her footing. She stumbled slightly, her weariness becoming more apparent than before. A pained warble came from her throat as she stepped again. Before Owen could even react, Blue had sprinted to Echo's side, holding the injured pack-mate up with her body.

Owen instantly stepped back, allowing the two raptors a break from training. He watched as Echo leaned against the beta, her breathing becoming labored as she closed her eyes. Blue looked up to Owen, her eyes expressing something Owen had only started seeing this week. There was a slight sadness and worry to them, but still surrounded by the ever present fiery nature.

It was then that Owen realized bettering the morale of the two raptors would be more difficult than anything. Their emotional state did not come from lack of enrichment or activity; they had more than enough of that. Rather, it came from their experiences. The loss of Charlie and Delta still had a toll on their hearts, and Echo's pitiful health only added to Blue's grief. The physical pain that Echo was feeling would normally be enough for an animal to be euthanized; she was suffering. But Owen knew that losing Echo would only destroy Blue even more than she already had been.

The T.E.D. sighed heavily, bringing a hand to the back of his neck. The surge of emotions ripping through him was becoming almost too much to handle; having to watch Blue and Echo go through so much; only speaking to Claire on terms of work. While he was glad to be here, he was also beginning to worry about his own emotional health. He stepped away from the railing, his eyes still glued to the ground below him.

* * *

 Although Owen had been for the past week able to make his first and last stop the raptor enclosure everyday, this time had to be different. He was to meet the new juvenile raptors and observe Bill Mundy's training session. After that, Owen was to head over to the Therizinosaurus enclosure once again to see how their new forms of enrichment were going.

The newer raptor enclosure was smaller than the other one, the walls not nearly as high. He noticed that there was only one set of gates entering the paddock. Instantly, his mind went into panic mode; these raptors could easily escape if they wanted to. The yelling coming from within the pen only added to his worry. He had known that Bill was more rough than necessary with Owen's own girls, but he dreaded seeing how the man handled the new ones.

Owen climbed the metal staircase, pausing only slightly as he reached the walkways above the paddock. Bill Mundy was nowhere to be seen, though his angry voice filled the surrounding air. Briefly glancing around, Owen then realized that the man's shouting was coming from below. He looked down, his stomach dropping upon seeing the new handler actually  _in_  the enclosure.

Before Owen could even speak in protest, Bill looked up, squinting in the bright sunlight. He held a large cattle prod in his hand, his other one flat in front of him, keeping three young raptors in place. "Ah, Mr. Grady," Bill said, bringing a hand to his face, shielding his eyes. Seeing the handler in his distraction, one of the raptors shifted to the right, head hanging low in submission.

Her movement had not gone unnoticed. With a sharp yell, the man poked the raptor with the prod, shocking the poor thing into remaining motionless. The pained shriek echoed in the small enclosure. "I said HOLD"

Owen was just now getting a taste of how this man treated his own animals. Bill's idiotic theory on how the animals only knew fear rather than respect was being put on display, showing the extent on just how much this man thought he could influence the animals. The sight of this man behaving so cruelly to these animals caused Owen's jaw to clench in irritation, his arms folded across his chest. He could only watch as Bill finished out the training session, the sounds of defeated squeals and barks from the juvenile raptors filling the air.

It was with great relief that Owen watched the handler exit the enclosure. What had been so painful to watch was now over. The raptors below moved slowly about the pen, cautiously watching their trainer. When he was out of their sight, their moods slowly transformed to a more playful nature. The three girls chased eachother around, playfully nipping at one another. Upon closer inspection, Owen had realized that these too had a very light layer of down covering their heads and small parts of their bodies, varying in colors from red to a golden-green.

They were smaller in build than his raptors had been at this age, though their impish disposition still were very similar.

"I'm glad you could make it," The voice behind him said in almost fake-enthusiasm. Owen startled, turning to see Mr. Mundy joining him on the metal catwalks. "It's about time you met these beauts!" He clapped Owen on the back, before gesturing to the raptors below. "They can be nasty little blighters, but nothin' like the devils over across the way."

Owen pressed his lips together in a thin line, his grip on the railing tightening ever so slightly. He decided not to comment on the man referring to Blue and Echo as devils. "Well, I just had to see for myself," He replied simply, keeping his anger bottled. "Needed to see where we were on the integration process."

Bill nodded. "Yeah, if the other mongrels would actually listen, it'd be a real piece a' piss."

Owen once again ignored the man's jab at his animals. "They look like they're scared shitless of you," Owen commented, looking down at the excited raptors below.

The other man seemed to take this as a compliment, far from what Owen had intended. "I do my best," He said shrugging, a smirk on his sun-worn faced. "Like I said before, mate, it's the fear that they need. They don't fear ya, they don't listen."

He gestured to the raptors, each of them freezing under his gaze. He pointed to the first one, larger than the others, her feathers bearing a striking red and orange combination. Her name, Owen learned, was Penny. She was the one Owen assumed was in charge when Crocodile Dundy over here wasn't around, though Bill never mentioned anything about pack or family dynamics. The one next to her was smaller, appearing more fragile, deep blue feathers covering her head. This was Lucy, the more skittish of the three. Finally, they came to the last one; Caroline. Green and gold feathers were scattered haphazardly all over her body, the thickness at its high point on her arms and head. All three stared up at the men with wary eyes, their bodies tense with anticipation.

"Ain't they beauties?" Bill asked proudly, turning his harsh gaze away from the animals.

Owen only nodded, half-heartedly agreeing. These were beautiful creatures, that was no lie, living dinosaurs had never failed to strike Owen with awe and wonder, but what was so unnerving about them was the way they were treated. He recalled Vic Hoskins saying something along the lines of, "extinct animals have no rights;" the philosophy behind the words returning in the form of handler Bill Mundy.

"I know what you're thinking," Bill said.  _No you don't._ "It's impossible to get these animals to listen. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, mate: Fear is the key."

Owen felt himself scoff. "They may fear you, but they sure as hell don't respect you."

"This again?" Bill let out a roaring laugh. "Come on, Mr. Grady, we've been over this. They don't know respect. These animals only follow what they fear. Imagine you're out there in the jungle, one of these little blighters finds you, are you gonna just sit there and hope that some ounce of mutual respect will save you? No. Men die thinking like that."

Owen was already tired of this conversation, and it had barely started. He knew there was no point in arguing with the stubborn man; that would get him nowhere. The man was too much of a dickwad to realize just how wrong he was. Bill would never agree that while the animal fearing you could be safe for a short time, there was still that aspect of the fear-mongering process that was utterly cruel. The animal could lash out at any moment if they decided.

Owen stepped away from the railing, ready to get the rest of his day over with. "You think that these animals are gonna be smaller and weaker than you forever," Owen felt the heat of anger boiling in his chest. "But they're not. They'll get bigger. And stronger. And they  _will_  realize that. And you know what else?" He snapped. "They'll figure out that they're tired of the shit you put them through."

For the first time, Owen saw the flash of anger blazing in Bill's eyes. The man let out a cruel laugh. "Mr. Grady, I think you're bloody wrong. These animals were engineered to be as docile and loyal as a Heeler pup. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some more trainin' to do. G'day."

The fury radiating off of Owen as he watched the man enter the enclosure once again was almost visible.

* * *

 The Therizinosaurus enclosure was almost eerily quiet. Owen stepped in, immediately reaching for the odor neutralizing face mask. He climbed up into the catwalks, greeting one of the keepers as he reached the top. The almost deafening silence filling the air sent a strange chill, that he at first connected to the frigid temperatures of the building, down Owen's back.

The silence was broken by the sound of rustling conifers below, followed by labored breathing. A distressed groan broke through the air, causing the handler and Owen to snap to attention. Soon, Lola the Therizinosaur came into view, lumbering weakly through the vegetation. Another pitiful sound escaped her as she stumbled slightly, her head colliding with a tree in the process.

Owen's brow furrowed in concern as he watched the dinosaur below, his mind absently tuning out the keeper next to him as he chattered. Lola looked up, weakly lifting her head as if it were made of solid stone. Another cry escaped her as she looked back down, her legs shifting to find a stronger stance.

The realization caused Owen's stomach to drop.

"Yeah, she hasn't been eating all day," He heard the keeper say, almost as if it were not that big of a deal.

Owen turned sharply to them. "Has she been acting like this  _all day_?"

A final, louder cry echoed through the air. They both turned, watching helplessly as Lola collapsed to the ground with a sickening thud.

Owen knew the only person that would be able to help, and the thought of contacting him only added to the cartwheels his stomach seemed to be doing. "This is paddock twelve to control," Owen grabbed the radio strapped to his vest. "Send Dr. Thales. Animal 746-B down."

It seemed to be an eternity before anyone actually came to the enclosure, and by the time the vets arrived, Owen was fuming, pacing in place. He had come down to the bottom level, monitoring Lola through the safety glass. She was still alive, that much he knew, but her shallow breathing worried him immensely. Terri, the other Therizinosaur, had not shown herself yet, another factor that caused Owen's stress levels to skyrocket.

The doors opened, revealing three of Jurassic World's vets; none of them were Tom. The one leading the group, a young woman with bright blonde hair, Owen recognized as the one who informed him on Echo's well-being. Her bright blue Jurassic World polo bore a name tag—reading, "Jackie."

The other two vet techs scrambled closely behind, their name tags reading Chuck and Nick.

Jackie marched confidently passed Owen, a tablet in one hand, a medkit in the other, only placing her tools down to type a key-code into the pen gate.

"Whoa whoa whoa," Owen stopped them. "Where's Dr. Thales?"

Jackie's irritated eye roll did not go unnoticed, she stopped short of the entrance, passing an annoyed glance to the two vet tech's behind her. "Dr. Thales is on his way," She replied smartly, her eyes crinkling upward in a smile.

She turned to enter the pen, but Owen spoke out again. "I don't think going in there is a good idea."

"I'm the only Paleo Veterinarian on site , and I have two vet techs, Mr. Grady," She remarked, stepping defiantly into the enclosure with the sick animal. "I think I'll be fine."

Owen immediately followed, but was stopped by the gate closing in his face. "Terri's still out there, she hasn't been contained."

The three of them laughed at how worried this crazy man was. "Oh, don't worry," Chuck assured, unpacking his own medkit, pulling the sanitary gloves onto his hands. "They're really quite tame."

"Dr. Thales comes in here all the time," Nick added, copying Chuck's movements.

Owen watched as the three made their way over to the dying Therizinosaurus. Part of him didn't want to watch, but another part of him had to make sure they knew what the hell they were doing. For once in his time being here, Owen wished that Tom would come through the metal doors. With a final glance, he ran up the staircase, observing the action from above the enclosure.

Lola's eyes fluttered open slightly at the new company, letting out a quiet groan as the three vets came closer. She lifted her head from the ground weakly; only for a moment, before her head feel back onto the cold dirt. Jackie placed a gloved hand on the animals neck, reaching with her other hand into her medkit. The three continued their examination of Lola, periodically giving soothing words to their patient as she cried. They would pause, briefly typing something into their tablets (temperature, heart rate, etc.) "Her eyes are dilated," Owen heard Jackie say as she ran her hand along the animal's head. "Feathers are molting." As the vet's hand reached a certain place on her neck, Lola let out another cry, startling the vet.

"I need carfentanil, she's too awake for this." Jackie said, sitting back on her heels.

Chuck and Nick glanced back and forth. "Uh, we didn't bring any." Chuck said nervously.

You could almost hear the eyeroll in Jackie's response. She rose from her place, muttering angrily at the animal below her. Owen heard her give an order to the vet techs before making her way to the enclosure gate.

Chuck pulled from his bag a large needle and some similar sized test tubes. He wiped the needle down with a white sanitizing cloth, patting the animal's head before inching closer to her. The other tech place both hands firmly on Lola's neck as a means of holding her in place.

After taking a blood sample, much to Lola's despair, Chuck lifted her large arm, struggling only slightly to hold it up. "Whoa," Owen heard him exhale. "Look at her G.S.D.."

_God dammit, what's with all these acronyms?_

Nick inhaled sharply, reaching out to touch the inflamed gangrenous area. "Holy shit."

The eardrum shattering cry that sounded throughout the enclosure nearly caused Owen's heart to stop. Lola, having gained a sudden wave of strength, thrashed about on the ground; only for a moment, before she fell back into her lethargic state. Clearly shaken to their core, the vet techs cautiously continued, prodding at the infected area.

They heard Terri before they saw her; the violent rustling of the vegetation, and thundering footsteps seemed to shake the very earth. Loud, angry roars signaled that it was now a good time to evacuate the enclosure. Owen found himself sprinting down the stairs and into the main level. Jackie was nowhere to be found. He cursed silently, hurrying to the main gate.

It was too late.

Terri emerged from the trees, her deafening roar nearly knocking Chuck and Nick to the ground. She hissed, placing herself between Lola and the vets, splaying her claws in front of her. At Chuck's miniscule movement, Terri struck, swinging her powerful arm. The horrible sound of broken bones cut through the commotion as she sliced the poor guy in half with her four foot claws. Blood pooled and viscous splattering along the walls and glass. Nick barely had any time to scream or run before being thrown against the concrete wall, his spine snapping almost in half at the impact; the machete like claws eviscerating him, ripping through his torso, causing his intestines to spill onto the ground.

The sudden and all too familiar sight of gore caused Owen to gag and double over in shock at the sights and sounds. He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself to ignore his surroundings. Holding back the bile rising in his throat threatening to escape, and with a shaky hand, he grasped the radio on his vest. "Paddock twelve to control. We have a code grey."

* * *

 The blood surrounding the two dinosaurs had no impact whatsoever. Lola wailed pitifully, raising her head a fraction off of the blood-soaked dirt. Terri gave a sad warble, lowering herself to the ground. She gently nudged her dying friend, the anger having drained out of her just as quickly as it formed. A silence followed, Lola's breathing gradually coming to an end. Terri pushed Lola again with her head, crying weakly at the lack of response.

Terri rose once again, only to move to Lola's other side, curling next to her dying companion.


	7. The Reprimanding

To Owen, the most terrifying sight on Isla Nublar was not the clever raptors or the towering giants with razor sharp teeth. It wasn't the titanic Mosasaurus, nor was it the monstrous T-Rex. No, the most terrifying attraction at Jurassic World was a pissed-off Claire Dearing. Nothing could freeze a person dead in their tracks like the redhead's scorn. She wasn't the type to go on a yelling frenzy when provoked, that was much harder to get out of her. No, it was more of a silent, cold anger. It wasn't that her temper was rare, per se, and it wasn't even that difficult to make the woman mad; but nothing could compare to the pure fury in her eyes at that moment.

Three unlucky souls found themselves in her office, each of their heads hanging low in submission and being subjected to the sheer ire before them.

The redhead stood behind her desk, hands planted firmly on the rich mahogany in front of her. She had paused in her long speech, only to recollect herself before she continued on her interrogation of her three victims. She exhaled slowly, before rising to stand up straight, though still seething in anger. "How could this happen?" She finally asked in a clipped tone, her words biting.

Jackie and Tom glanced briefly at one another, neither of them too eager to speak up. In truth, a number of things lead to the events that day. Owen stood at the far corner of the room, arms folded across his chest in a shielded stance.

Claire huffed, placing her hands firmly on her hips, pressing her lips in a tight, irritated line. Silence was not the answer she was looking for. Her two top vets were acting like neither of them knew just how perilous this situation was; their ignorance was painfully frustrating. Claire wanted answers, not the cowering mess in front of her. She wanted to know who exactly was responsible for this incident, and she wanted to know  _right now, dammit_.

The shifty blonde vet in front of Claire immediately grabbed her attention. The redhead turned her steely gaze to the other woman, her new victim not daring to make eye contact. "Dr. Robinson," Claire hissed. "Would you care to explain why  _the hell_  you thought it would be a good idea to go into that enclosure?"

Jackie could swear that she felt herself shaking, though now growing more defensive than before. "Dr. Thales was not available when we received the call!" She responded, trying to swallow the lump that had been forming in her throat.

Claire tilted her head, not pleased in the slightest. "That doesn't answer my question."

Again, Jackie elected to place the blame on Tom. "Dr. Thales goes in there all the time, and he comes out fine!"

"You couldn't have waited until the other animals were contained?"

"Then it would have been too late!" Dr. Jackie Robinson's voice waivered. "I thought I was doing what you would have wanted." Her efforts to hold back tears were in vain; her pretty face now distorted in despair.

Claire paused before starting in on the Jackie again, realizing that the visibly upset woman may already feel enough guilt. But before she could start consoling the woman, Dr. Thales broke in.

"Well, I'm sorry to say, that ten-million-dollar asset is no longer viable. But what's worse is now two people have lost their lives over your carelessness. What are we going to tell their families? 'Sorry for your loss, but Dr. Robinson thought the life of a zoo attraction was worth more than their sons' safety!'? Jackie, you know better than this!"

"I didn't mean for them to die!" Jackie sobbed, tears and snot rolling down her face. Tom sighed and pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to the mewling woman. Jackie snatched the offered cloth and began weeping anew.

Claire had to fight off the eye roll at Jackie's pathetic blubbering. Claire thought she should show some dignity and some responsibility for her actions. "Dr. Robinson, would you please step out for a moment?" There was about to be a major storm of scolding coming, and reprimanding someone's boss in front of them was not something Claire was fond of doing.

The redhead waited until the office door clicked shut before turning on the Head Vet. "Tell me, Dr. Thales," she seethed. "Why were you not present at the examination of this animal?"

Tom looked up from his seat, flinching only slightly at the cold stare. "I was not notified of Lola's condition."

"Bullshit!" Owen spat, beginning to feel the familiar flare of temper. "I sent out a message on the radio."

"It must have been received by Jackie instead," Tom suggested, transforming his submissive disposition to one of confidence.

"Oh, so now it's her fault—"

"You have no right to talk Mr. Grady," Claire snapped angrily. Owen flinched at the use of only his surname. "You're the one who let her in there in the first place! You didn't think to stop her?"

"Oh believe me, I tried." The simmering anger within Owen had gradually risen to a near boil. "If you wanna blame someone, just—"

"That's enough, Mr. Grady!" Claire pinched the bridge of her nose, groaning in frustration.

The dead silence was almost deafening as a moment passed between the three.

"Jackie is a bold and stubborn girl. She would have done it anyway," Tom said quietly, coming to Owen's defense. Tom looked up to Claire, his normally smooth tone now possessing a slight edge. "I want her fired. There have been multiple occasions where she has more than proven that she is not capable of handling her work."

Claire shook her head. "Well, you know what, I'd love to, but unfortunately we're a little short-staffed now thanks to our little 'zoo attraction'." Claire scoffed throwing Tom's own words back at him.

Tom sank back into his chair, resting a nervous hand on his chin as he sat in deep contemplation.

The knock at the office door briefly distracted the three of them. Not even a second passed before Jurassic World's Chief Geneticist entered the room, his nonchalant manner putting everyone on edge. Claire's eyes narrowed as she said through a forced smile, "Ah, Dr. Wu. Please, have a seat."

Dr. Wu sat calmly and silently, acting in feigned ignorance; as if he hadn't heard about the tragic deaths of Charles Gains and Nicholas Durrani. He leaned back into the chair, crossing his legs casually.

You could almost see the cartoon steam coming out of Claire's ears as she watched the geneticist behave as calm as ever. "You  _promised_  me. Dammit, you promised me that there would be no more incidents! That you had everything under  _control!_ " She slammed her hand on the desk, emphasizing the last word.

Tom opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Dr. Wu. "With all due respect, Ms. Dearing,  _I_  never promised anything," he said coolly.

She began to feel the already short fuse burning faster by the second at his words. "You genetically changed them. You said they would be docile."

"We did, to both of those," Dr. Wu agreed, nodding solemnly. "But I never promised that they wouldn't lash out. I simply said that there was a smaller chance that these assets would attack someone. These are living creatures, Ms. Dearing. Just because they are docile does not mean they aren't protective. A dog is considered to be man's best friend, yet he is still very capable of defending ones he loves. So do not blame the creators for something that happens in nature, instead maybe blame those who behaved carelessly."

After his long speech, Dr. Wu only sank deeper into his chair, still maintaining his cool exterior.

For once, Owen found himself agreeing with Dr. Wu. What the man said was right, though his motives were still questionable. Domesticating animals has been around since the dawn of mankind, but there are still cases of animals turning on others in order to protect their companions. These were still wild animals, no matter how friendly they seemed, and wild animals have always been unpredictable. It was exactly what Owen had said to Tom the week before; these animals will always follow their genes. You can't suppress sixty-five-million years of instinct.

"Then again," Dr. Wu continued after a beat of tense silence. "You can blame the man who is actually in 'control' of their genes," he mocked, nodding his head to the vet next to him. "The devices are obviously defective."

_Devices?_

The word caught Owen's attention more than anything that had been said previously. What the hell did Dr. Wu mean by devices? He moved away from the wall he was leaning against, his brow furrowed in confusion. "What devices?" He was almost too scared to hear what the answer would be. It was no secret that the genetics team here had committed their fair share of crimes against nature; but still, Owen feared for the worst. What in God's name were they doing now?

Tom sighed apprehensively, placing his head in his hands momentarily. This was something he knew that Owen was going to hate, hence the reason why the raptor handler was never told. "The Genetic Silencing Device, or G.S.D. if you will," He answered, then swallowing. "It is something of my creation. You see, we inject the device—it's really only the size of a small pea—near an assets' main arteries. It grants us partial control of their genetic makeup, slowly muting and pausing parts of the creature's DNA. It releases a pseudo-virus that silences parts of the genome. I am in the process of creating a similar device that completely rewrites and even adds new sequences." Normally Owen would have started ignoring Dr. Thales' tech talk, but now that he understood the scope of which the Doctor was playing God, he had his full attention. "As time goes by, the device will somewhat dissolve into the animal's body. The assets don't feel any discomfort beyond the initial injection."

Owen could hardly believe what he was hearing. Tom had told him that they were manipulating certain genes in the animals the very first day he got here, but he had no idea to what extent they had been willing to achieve that control. Owen had assumed it had been similar to what they had done before; playing with the dinosaur's genetic makeup before it was even hatched. Now he was learning that they had started performing this on living creatures. That wasn't even really the part that bothered him though; what was most disturbing was that these men thought that they would still be able to control the animals after all of that. They didn't understand. Owen tried to find the words for what he felt, but could only come up with the question of disbelief. "You're doing this on living animals?!"

Tom cleared his throat. "Yes, it allows us to manipulate the genes at any point in time. It is much more convenient than just hatching an asset and hoping for the best."

There were no words. The heat of infuriation spread throughout Owen's body. Claire seemed to sense the spike in anger, her own emotion dwindling for a fraction of a second. She placed a steady hand on Owen's arm, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "Mr. Gr— _Owen_ , would you step out for a moment?"

He shot her a look of betrayal, hesitating slightly as she began to guide him out. He barely noticed the clicking of the door behind him as he stood in the neutral toned hallway. The faint sound of weeping brought him back to reality. He turned to his left, seeing the blonde vet sitting in a chair next to the door, her head buried in her hands.

Owen froze. He may have labeled himself as a "people person," but there was one thing he couldn't deal with, and that was crying. It was only with those he was closest to that he knew how to comfort. But a strange woman he'd only met that week? No. There were few people in his life that he would allow himself to be on an emotional level with, and they each had their own ways of coping. Consoling Claire in her times of trouble had become a second nature to Owen; there were times where all she would want was to have him hold her and talk her through whatever trouble she was going through, to let her know that he was there and alive. Other times, she only wanted to talk, and Owen would gladly sit and listen to her woes. Finally, there were times where they would both only sit in complete silence, both comforted by eachothers presence.

This knowledge had come from years of knowing the woman. It had taken time to get to that level with her. He never saw himself as one who could accomplish that point of intimacy with just about anyone that needed it.

But Owen wasn't completely heartless. "Uh, are you gonna be okay, miss?" He stood awkwardly in front of her, suddenly regretting his decision to stay and be kind to a stranger.

She jumped slightly in her chair, sniffling and wiping away the tears upon realizing that she had company. "Yeah, I'll be fine," she responded, giving a weak smile.

Against his better judgement, Owen stayed. Perhaps the meeting would be over soon. "I understand," he said, bringing a hand to rest on the back of his neck. "Losing a friend. You guys must have been really close."

Her brows knit together in slight confusion, her head tilting a fraction. "Uh, yeah," She gave a small shrug. "I guess we were… friends?"

He contemplated walking away, after all, this wasn't really his area. Tom was a more touchy-feely kind of guy. This wasn't Owen's job. Owen didn't expect her to continue speaking, and he had almost completely turned around before he heard her voice again.

"I just can't believe Dr. Thales would say that about me," she huffed, the hurt evident in her voice. "He thinks I can't hear anything that he's saying in there, but I can."

 _Okay, I guess it_ is _my job._

The man nodded dismissively, not entirely comfortable talking shit about someone's boss with them in the other room.

Jackie continued. "I mean, I'm not really surprised though! He's such a terrible guy. He wants everyone to think he's nice with his stupid British accent and his stupid smile," she paused, taking a moment to sniffle into said terrible guy's handkerchief. "But as soon as you turn your back, he's against you! I  _hate_  that guy!"

For some odd reason, Owen found himself only half-agreeing with what Jackie had to say. Yes, Owen did feel strong feelings of hatred for the Head Veterinarian, but he also knew that Dr. Thales wasn't a terrible guy. True, the man had his quirks and his more than questionable beliefs, and he was arguable clinically insane, but there had certainly been worse human beings out there. Still, Owen would never repeat any of that out loud, especially to a woman in tears.

Owen's silence didn't seem to faze Jackie at all, she only took it as a sign to continue her rant. "He's not like  _you_  though," she added sweetly.

He felt himself freeze once again, becoming confused and slightly taken aback at the sudden shift of mood. Owen knew flirting when he saw it. He inwardly cringed, hoping his bout of consideration hadn't given the poor girl the wrong idea.

"You're  _honest_ , and so  _brave_ ," her once fragile, vulnerable voice had taken strength, molding into one of sweetness.

The old Owen would have been more than happy to play this game; he would have gladly taken the chance at flirting with an attractive woman.

Again, that was the  _old_  Owen. That was Owen before the incident, before everything. A lot had changed in the past few years, they weren't necessarily bad changes. He may have been heartbroken at that moment, but that didn't take away from the good that had happened. As miserable as he was now, he wouldn't trade any of it for the world.

He only gave a small smile in return, finding himself naively flattered by her words.

Old habits die hard.

"I wouldn't say that…" He replied almost sheepishly.

Jackie shot forward in her chair, her eyes gleaming. "Oh no, it's true! Dr. Thales couldn't handle that raptor—Echo, was it?—when we were trying to save her! If you were here, I bet she wouldn't have been so difficult. But Dr. Thales took the shortcut to fix her."

He felt his brows furrow in confusion. "What do you mean?" He asked slowly, the tiny traces of flirtation disappearing as quickly as they had appeared.

"She wasn't taking to the skin grafts, so he just put a device in her and silenced the more aggressive genes. It really calmed her down, but also made her a bit of a pushover," She replied, almost as if the answer had been obvious.

The very room seemed to freeze at that last bit of information. White hot rage shot through Owen, the feeling akin to a punch to the chest. "Son of a bitch!" Owen growled, his fists clenching, turning his knuckles an alarming shade of white. He could almost feel the heat radiating off of his tense body. He actually saw stars for a moment, his vision going blurry.

It was at that moment that Dr. Thomas Thales figured it was a perfectly good time to exit Claire's office. He was greeted immediately by Owen's hand flying to his shirt-collar, pinning the Head Vet against the wall. It had all happened so quickly, Tom hadn't even realized what had occurred until he saw Owens angry face mere inches away. "Owen! What are—?"

"You put one of those fucking things in Echo?!"

Tom's expression softened, now understanding the man's sudden outburst. "Yes, I did."

Owen grew frustrated at just how calmly this man was handling the situation. "Care to explain why?"

"It was only a matter of safety, I promise you. She wasn't cooperating with any of our treatments. She almost died, Owen," Tom said. Owen's grip slackened, giving the other man a chance to move away from the wall. "That was what saved her, and I know how you feel about what we do, but without the G.S.D., she wouldn't be here."

Tom's words barely did anything to control Owen's emotional state. The raptor handler was still feeling the searing burn of anger welling in his chest. He took a deep breath, having become aware of his own feelings. "What did you change about her?" he asked quietly, once again finding himself not entirely wanting to know the answer.

"Nothing personality-wise, I assure you. She is still very much the same."

"You're telling me that Echo is the same damn raptor she was two years ago? Are you blind? Or just an idiot?!"

Tom faltered. "Yes, well, obviously she has been through a lot, and I apologize if I came off as ignorant of that fact. We only dialed down her aggression gene. But you see, she was the first one to actually go through the procedure—for the device, I mean. What we learned from her has helped us advance in ways none of us could have ever imagined!"

Owen felt his fist tighten once again.

"Think of all the lives we can save with this. People with genetic disorders can finally have the answer to their prayers! Owen, I know you don't like me saying this, but Echo made a wonderful test subject, and—"

Owen's fist connected with Tom's face in a sickening crack. Tom gave a surprised, ' _oomph!_ ' as he fell to the ground. Jolts of pain shot through Owen's hand, shaking it only slightly alleviating the dull throbbing.

"What the hell is going on here!?" Claire shouted as she emerged from the doorway. She halted in her tracks at the sight before her; Tom was on the ground, his hand covering his mouth while Owen stood utterly still, cradling his own aching hand. It was not difficult at all to put two and two together.

"Oh my God, are you serious?" Claire asked exasperatedly. She threw up her hands and shook her head. "I can't believe... what the  _hell_  is with you two?" Her eyes fixed on the two men in the hallway.

Tom slowly stood up. Owen and he glanced between one another, once again under the painful scrutinizing glare of Claire Dearing. "I, uh, fell." Tom lied, dabbing at his bleeding lip with his hand.

The redhead was obviously not buying the story. Giving a pointed look at Owen's bruised hand, she said, "Oh, and Mr. Grady just hurt his hand at the same time?" She asked incredulously, gesturing to the other man.

Another brief glance was passed between the two men. Owen looked down at his own throbbing hand before replying. "I… Tried to catch him?"

Tom's eyes lit up. "Yes! You caught me… well almost. You tried," he let out a nervous laugh, his eyes moving to Claire. "He's obviously really clumsy."

"I'm clumsy? You're the one that 'fell!'"

"Oh you!" Tom said, playfully punching Owen on the arm. For a 'playful punch' it sure hurt.

Claire's anger had now turned into exasperation. It was clear what had actually happened, but she didn't have time for this shit at the moment. She was about to receive a call from the Sebastian Hale and the Board about the whole ordeal, and she wasn't about to play nursemaid for two overgrown children. With a final roll of her eyes and a clipped dismissal, she left the two men to solve their own problems.

They watched as the senior asset manager descended down the hallway, waiting for the clicking of her heels on the linoleum to fade away. Owen turned to Tom. "You're gonna show me everything you've done to Echo. Is that clear?"

Tom straightened. "Crystal. How do you like your coffee?"

* * *

 Owen was expecting Tom's bumbling professor persona to translate into his professional environment. But no, the vet's office was surprisingly well-organized. The shelves had an insane amount of books in what seemed like not only alphabetical order but by aesthetically pleasing arrangements. The color coded jars all had neatly handwritten labels. There wasn't an object out of place. A large white desk sat in the middle of the room, a pristine new computer centered perfectly on the surface.

A row of silver canisters were lined up along the counter to the right side of the office. Intrigued, Owen picked one up, spinning the round cylinder in his hands. On the top of the canister read the letters "DET" followed by the numbers 746.

"Oh, be careful with that," Tom warned, moving over to where Owen stood.

Owen shot him a skeptical look before placing the canister back on the counter.

The smell of coffee filled the room as Jackie entered, her having been sent on the errand just after witnessing Owen knock Tom to the ground with one punch. She handed the first cup to Owen, smiling prettily as he took it. Her bright grin immediately fell as she practically shoved the second cup to Tom, slightly spilling the piping hot liquid onto his hands.

"Thank you, Jackie," Tom said, wincing as the coffee burned his skin. "Please shut the door on your way out."

She narrowed her eyes at Tom, her lips quirking upward into a cruel smirk, before turning on her heel. She passed a sly wink to Owen as she disappeared from the room, slamming the door behind her.

Tom glanced at Owen's injury. "How's your hand?"

Owen shrugged, not willing to admit how much it actually hurt. "It's fine. How's your lip?"

"I've had worse," The doctor answered with a chuckle.

Tom sat at his desk. After taking a sip of his drink, he winced and spat the coffee back into his cup. He then set the coffee on a perfectly placed coaster. He turned to the computer and moved the mouse to wake it, typing in a seriously long password, then running his finger along the scanner on the keyboard. The desktop appeared, the background featuring Tom and Wendy. The picture was obviously taken when the Allosaurus was much younger; she was still small enough for Tom to hold her. Owen had to admit: she was pretty damn cute. She was completely covered in red fuzzy down, she had overly large eyes that most people found adorable, and she had the large play 'grin' that she still used when Owen or Tom came to visit her. Tom too, had his signature huge grin plastered on his honest face.

Tom pulled out a jump drive and inserted it into the USB port. He began copying numerous files. There were a lot, and by the time he finished, Owen's coffee had become lukewarm. "I hope you understand that everything I am about to give you is confidential. I haven't even shown this to Dr. Wu. This is my life's work. If it gets into the wrong hands, everything I've worked for will be lost." He handed Owen the drive.

"This is a lot for just one raptor. What all did you do to her?"

"I gave you more than just Echo's file. I gave you everything I feel is relevant. Which is mostly all of it." He turned away from the computer, now completely facing Owen. "I put in what I have done with Gene Silencing. So that you'll understand, I didn't really change her; I made her genes only 'pause'. All changes I made were only temporary. She should have been back to normal by now, but she  _did_  go through a horrible ordeal. Anyone going through what she experienced would have changed in some way."

Owen gingerly held the drive in his hands, finding himself torn between believing the man in front of him or abandoning any form of trust. He would have to read the file himself in order to actually come to a conclusion on how exactly he felt about the whole situation. His only response to Tom was in the form of a curt nod, before placing the drive snugly into his pocket.

* * *

 Just as he had planned, as soon as Owen arrived at his bungalow, he began researching.

Hours had passed, and he didn't actually know the exact number. He sat at the small table, his eyes burning into the laptop screen riddled with various equations and absurdly long paragraphs and charts. He had to admit, it was impressive when he actually understood it; there were far too many parts where Tom's own unique jargon would throw Owen off, forcing him to try and figure out what exactly that loon meant.

The light sound of gentle rapping on the door awoke Owen from his state of boredom. He sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion. Tossing a quick glance to the clock, he realized it was now nearing midnight.  _Who the hell just shows up at this hour?_

The persistent knocking sounded throughout the bungalow once again. After closing his laptop, Owen warily made his way to the front door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone reading, commenting, and giving kudos! You guys are amazing! :) 
> 
> Do not worry my dear readers, there will be more Clawen moments in the future. I promise!


	8. Wendy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance. <3

The sight before Owen was both surprising and slightly disappointing.

Dr. Jackie Robinson stood at his front door, dressed in her Jurassic World issued blue polo and khaki shorts. Owen was pretty sure the shorts were much shorter than regulations allowed. She gave a sheepish smile at his bewildered expression.

A number of thoughts raced through Owen's mind; one, being how she knew where his bungalow was; two, being why she was even there at all. If he were being completely honest, he was almost annoyed at the sudden visit. She could have—no,  _should have_ —called. Still, no matter how irritated he actually was, that wouldn't stop him from at least being polite. "Uh, can I help you with something?"

She laughed nervously, burying as much of her hands as she could in her tiny pockets. "Yeah, actually. Can I come in?"

Owen hadn't had a chance to answer that question before she pushed past him through the door. He turned around, half-expecting the girl to already be making herself at home. He eyed her expectantly as she shifted on her feet. If he wasn't so puzzled, he would have been amused. He raised an eyebrow, prompting her to give an explanation for her late-night house call.

"I just needed someone to talk to about… well, everything…" She said quietly, bringing her eyes to his.

Oh no. Not this again. Owen cringed inwardly, once again realizing that he was not cut out for touchy-feely moments with complete strangers. His tell for when he felt truly awkward made itself known again as he brought a hand to rest on the back of his neck, scratching his slightly sunburned skin. He already knew what she wanted to talk about; the deaths of her two friends, almost losing her job, and worst of all, Tom. Owen's fear of making things worse won over his desire not to become involved. He closed the door behind him before maneuvering his way to the other side of the room in the hopes of creating significant distance between them. "Uh, alright. Shoot."

Jackie gave a relieved smile, bringing her hands to rest on her arms as if she were holding herself. She took a small step in his direction, her eyes unwavering.. "I just… I feel so terrible, you know? I shouldn't have told you what Tom did to your raptor… You probably didn't want to know that."

He shook his head, waving his hand dismissively. "Nah, it's fine. I would've found out about it anyway."

She took another step. "True. It was worth it in some ways… "

"Oh?"

Another step. "Well, I'd be lying if I said that you punching Tom was probably the greatest thing I've seen in a while." The melancholy in her voice had now completely disappeared, being replaced by blatant flirtation.

Owen had failed to realize how much progress Jackie had made across the room in their short conversation. He froze, determined not to let some blonde vet crack his resolve. He stood firm as she took another small step, now completely invading his personal space.

"I guess, I really came here to thank you. I haven't stopped thinking about you." The too-close-for-comfort proximity caused Owen to take an equally spaced step backwards. She laughed and shook her head. "Wow! That sounds like a lame come on." To his frustration, she followed his movement. "I mean it though. You really showed Tom who's boss." She bit her lip. "He can be a real dick. And you… you didn't fall for his nice guy routine. It was awesome. You were awesome!"

Before he could even think to react, Jackie's hands flew to the sides of his head, pulling him down, crashing their lips into a forced kiss. Almost immediately, Owen's own hands gripped her shoulders. Not to hold her closer, but in an effort to push her away. But she was strong for such a meek acting girl. Finally his efforts to shove her away seemed to do the trick. With a final vigorous push he managed to escape the blond vet's vice like grip. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Owen yelled, holding her out in front of him. "What the hell?!"

Jackie's smile widened as she leaned forward again, she pouted as he pushed her away for a second time. "Why are you acting so surprised?"

He kept his firm grip on her shoulders, his arms being the only thing protecting him from another romantic assault. "Hey, listen, I think you've got the wrong idea, Jackie."

Her face contorted in amused disbelief. "Oh please, Owen. Don't fight it. There is something between us, I know you feel it too."

"We've only known each other for a week."

"So? It's just a chemical release of endorphins. It doesn't have to be forever. But It feels good. And I like you. It's no big deal." She tried leaning in again, feeling his hold slacken.

He tensed again, now physically shoving her away from him. She stumbled backwards at the force, her flirtatious attitude becoming laced with irritation. Owen took his chance, moving quickly past the eager woman, now creating even more distance. "I don't base my relationships on that, alright?"

Jackie folded her arms across her chest, seeming only just now to get the message. She scoffed. "Oh, I see. You're obviously still caught up on that corporate cunt."

For nearly the hundredth time that week, the words of someone else had been able to ignite the spark of anger within Owen. The blonde woman's sudden attack on Claire didn't sit well with him; not one bit. "Excuse me?"

"Come on. Everyone knows the story," she mocked, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "You guys hated each other, nearly died, decided you were 'in love,' and then fucked. It's not a secret. Oh and then the  _horrible_  break-up. Oh, boo-hoo. Relationships end, buddy. Why the fuck are you even still interested in that bitch?"

For the first time in his life, Owen had to suppress the urge to punch a woman. His fists clenched together tightly as he slowly counted to ten in his head, trying to slow his heart-rate.

"I have news for you, Grady. She's not interested. She doesn't need you. She's got her little pet-vet to follow her around."

It was a mixture of hurt, sadness, and anger that filled Owen; he wasn't quite sure which emotion was prevailing or which was dominant. The wound had been opened, and Jackie just poured an entire bucket of salt on it. He hated the blond. He hated her for what she was saying, for what she was forcing him to feel. She had just opened the pandora's box of emotions he had been trying to protect; all by saying what he never wanted to hear. He knew that listening to her poisonous words was a counter-productive, self-deteriorating thing to do, but he couldn't help it. The anger came from what she was saying about Claire; the words she used to describe the woman he loved.

He would not stoop to Jackie's level.

His silence gave her a feeling of satisfaction, she placed her hands on her hips, holding her head high. Loud ringing from her pocket cut through the air, her phone chirping for attention. She rolled her eyes, answering. Owen stood in angry silence as he watched and listened.

"Hello?... Yes, this is she... What do you want?... Again? Really?"

Owen could faintly hear the other line, the words, "Wendy," and "emergency," standing out significantly.

"Alright, fine. I'll be there soon… No, don't bother, I'll call him… Thank you."

She angrily hung up the phone, shoving it into her pocket. She turned to face Owen again, her smirk having been replaced by an annoyed frown.

Owen, still feeling the mess of emotions coursing through him, cleared his throat. "Was that about Wendy?"

Jackie shrugged. "Yeah, she's showing symptoms again."

" _Again?_ "

She nodded casually. "She's been sick all day."

As if this woman hadn't done enough, now he was finding out that she was aware of a sick animal on site, and had done nothing about it. Without a second thought, he snatched his keys up from the coffee table, storming out of the bungalow. Something had to be done before it was too late.

Owen feared that it wouldn't matter at this point.

* * *

 They rode separately, Owen on his motorcycle while Jackie drove a company jeep. He didn't want to have to spend anymore time alone with this woman than he already had to. She was lucky that he hadn't acted on impulse, otherwise she may not have been able to actually move.

In the years he spent at Jurassic World, Owen had gotten use to the not-so-occasional jab at Claire. Now, just because the insults had become almost expected, that in no way meant that Owen was less defensive. It had come to the point where the topic of the Senior Asset Manager was never brought up in front of him unless it was words of kindness, praise, or just neutrality. It had gotten around that anyone who dared talk shit about her would certainly get what was coming to them. His actions weren't always violent. In fact, there were only two or three instances where a certain employee crossed the line and earned themselves a black-eye. It was mostly verbal attacks that were received.

An eternity seemed to pass before they even made it to the enclosure, the keypad on the side of the gate a beacon in the pitch black night. Owen stepped into the paddock, not bothering to see if Jackie was behind him or not. He followed the light coming from the concrete building to the side of the pen. He nearly broke the door trying to shove it open, wincing slightly as his shoulder came into contact with the metal.

His heart sank at what lay before him.

Wendy was laid across a large blanket, a keeper and a younger vet tech stroking her wilting feathers comfortingly. Her breathing was shallow; weak, intermittent cries coming from her throat.

Owen felt his stomach turn.

He stumbled slightly as Jackie pushed past him, medkit in hand. She pulled on her gloves before reaching into the kit. Immediately she began berating the tech and handler.

"Why haven't you taken her blood? Where are your gloves? Why are you just sitting there looking dumb?" She turned to Owen, blinking with mock surprise that he was still there. "Owen, hon, could you get me a coffee?"

"Have you called Tom?" Owen asked, remembering what had happened the last time Tom missed an examination.

She rolled her eyes, looking up from the sick dinosaur. "I did, but he didn't answer. It's alright. I can handle this. He's not on call tonight." She gave Owen a thoughtful glance. "He's probably with that slutty queen bee." Her attention shifted back to the busy tech. "Oh my _God!_ Are you serious? That's not how you take blood from a class three Theropod. Were you not paying attention in the paid training you sat through for four weeks?"

Owen used this opportunity to quietly slip out of the shed, pulling his phone from his pocket. He was about to lose all hope until he heard the doctor's sleepy voice answer on the other end.

"Hey, Tom? There's another animal down. It's… It's Wendy."

* * *

It was only a matter of minutes before Tom arrived, rushing into the room, still clad in pajamas. He must have jumped out of bed and ran here. "Would you call Claire please? I seem to have left my phone," he said, not bothering to hide the shakiness of his voice. "She should be here too."

Jackie immediately looked up at the sound of Tom's clipped proper voice, her face contorting in anger at the sight of him. "Dr. Thales, you aren't needed here. Please, shut the door on your way out."

For what seemed the first time in history, Tom's normally kind face took on a furious expression. He exhaled sharply, moving over to where Jackie was next to the ailing Allosaur. "Dr. Robinson, as your superior, I would  _kindly_  ask that you leave the premises immediately. You've already done enough damage for one day."

If he wasn't so God damn terrified, Owen would have been amazed and, in an odd way, proud of Tom's shortness with the blonde woman. He sidestepped the angry vet as she stormed out, her med-bag clutched tightly in her hand. Owen pulled out his cell and place a quick yet informative call to a sleep confused Claire.

Tom knelt in front of Wendy, placing a shaky hand on her head.

The Allosaur tried to pull herself closer to Tom. "Shh, It's okay. I'm here. Her eyes are dilated. What's her vitals look like?" He began ordering the young vet tech and handler into action. Owen could tell they worked well as a team. The chaos of the scene was as ordered as Tom's office. Everyone did their part. With one hand, the vet began gently stroking Wendy's molting plumage, with the other he began prepping a needle.

Wendy cried and cawed. She kept trying to sit up and scoot closer to Tom. The vet gently rested his hand on her side to keep her still. She made gargled coughs, a pink slimy mucus blocking her breathing.

"Carl, would you clear her airways while David holds her down? I am so sorry dearest," he said to her. "This is going to hurt a bit."

The young tech Carl began prepping a tube. Meanwhile, Tom began running a hand over the major arteries of the adolescent dino. He stopped when Wendy let out a high-pitched scream. She turned and snapped at Tom.

"I know. That hurt a lot didn't it? David would you please hold her a bit tighter?" Tom glanced over at Owen. "Would you help us with her? She may be dyi— _sick_  but she is still very strong."

Owen knelt beside Tom and began petting Wendy's scarlet feathers. With a well practiced move, he gradually shifted from petting to a secure and tight hold.

Tom gave a nod of thanks to the handler and found the spot again. "Carl, would you hold her leg while I get this? And be careful, she is going to kick." The tech took his place and Tom took a pair of large tweezers and pulled a small pea sized device from the thrashing Allosaurus' skin.

"Is that what I think it is?" Owen asked thinking back to the wealth of information on the drive still in his computer.

"Yes, but… something's not right." Tom went back to the wound that was now seeping pus. He took a sample of the seepage and cleaned the lesion as best as he could. He continued examining the surrounding area as Wendy thrashed and struggled for freedom.

Slowly, Wendy lost her strength. Owen felt the little dino going into shock. "Hey Doc! She's not doing so good!"

Tom began ordering again. The tech prepared a needle with some drug Owen hadn't ever heard of. The handler held whatever part of the limp dino Tom told him to, and Owen followed the orders given to him. He cleared Wendy's airways as the tech helped Tom press cold packs on the scorching hot body.

Every now and then she would become more lucid and vocal. She would cry out a sound Owen heard only once before when he stepped on Charlie's tail when she was no more than a few months old. ' _She's crying for her mother.'_ Owen thought as her crying was soothed by Tom rubbing her snout.

When Wendy stopped breathing, Tom made a makeshift trach in the dino's throat.

When Wendy began seizing Tom and Owen held her. Owen watched as the young dinosaur began convulsing, her body thrashing and tail stiff. Wendy began making strange noises seemingly out of her control. "Get me, two-hundred-thirty milligrams of diazepam," Tom ordered the tech. Wendy's cries and pitiful wails were interrupted by her gargling and Tom's shouted directions.

Then the gurgling stopped. The thrashing stopped. Tom started compressions, not stopping until the tech placed a hand on his shoulder.

Owen let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. The room became blanketed in a heavy silence; quick footsteps interrupting the quiet air. Claire rushed in, breathing heavily, stopping in her tracks next to Owen upon seeing the scene before her. She covered her mouth in shock, her other hand grabbing onto Owen's arm for support.

They watched as Tom began to unravel, tossing his supplies aside; he stood, bracing his hands on the metal table, his weighty breath becoming ragged. He straightened, running both gloved hands through his curly hair. In his grief, he threw the medkit next to him against the wall, shouting in anguish. " _GOD DAMMIT!_ "

He had failed.

He had failed to save his crowning achievement. Somehow, he had known saving her was damn near impossible, but there was that small part of him that felt it could have been different… If only he had arrived sooner. He looked up to Owen and Claire, hot tears streaming down his face. His eyes were questioning; questioning why this had to happen, why it had to be  _her_. "Prep…" his voice cracked as he tried to speak, "Prep the...asset… for an autopsy."

Claire instantly moved to him, wrapping the weeping man into a strong embrace. He held onto her as if his life depended on it. He wept into her shoulder, listening to her words of comfort.

It was then that feelings of guilt began to flood Owen; he had spent so much of his time here focused on hating this man, on trying to prove how inhuman he was. Owen had assumed that the doctor hadn't truly cared for any of these animals, but seeing him so broken after such a loss was enough to convince him otherwise. The thing was, Owen had also known grief; he had known what it was to lose a loved one. Charlie and Delta's death still stung immensely after all of these years. He had not had time to grieve their passing until after the incident; all of his emotions had to be kept bottled up until he was alone.

Owen decided that his anger was misplaced; you can't hate someone who's just lost a loved one.

There had been times where Claire had held him as she was holding Tom now; times where she soothed him with the same words. He knew the feeling. He could now see the connection between the two, as much as it pained him to admit.

Claire pulled away from Tom, rubbing his shoulders as she did so. Tears glistened on the corner of her eyes, threatening to fall. She looked over to Owen, a single tear escaping. He moved to them, placing a hand on Tom's shoulder. The doctor turned, pulling Owen into hug. Alarmed, Owen froze, gently patting the grieving man on the back as he pulled away.

There the three of them stood, their only comfort being the company each of them provided.

The next twenty-four hours had not been easy on anyone. The death of Wendy had caused a lingering sense of sadness within Owen. Though he had only known the lively dinosaur less than a week, it was disheartening to see these animals dying off so quickly. He knew Tom was at work this very moment, trying to find out what was causing such an epidemic.

* * *

 The morning following Wendy's passing had brought only more negativity.

Owen had been working with Blue and Echo for only thirty minutes before things started to fall apart. Much to his surprise and concern, Echo wasn't the one causing the training session to fail, but Blue. The normally somewhat cooperative Blue had been easily distracted, randomly barking in agitation at nothing. It would take more than two repeats of the command before she would comply.

The raptor handler stepped back, bracing both hands on the metal railing. He heard a mocking laugh from the other side of the enclosure; Bill's biting words falling onto his ears. "Oi! Mate! Havin' a little trouble are we?"

Owen clenched his jaw, not allowing what he wanted to say to be heard. Pressing his lips together, he straightened, clicker in hand, willing to try again.

_ClickClick._

"Echo!" He barked, giving a small nod in satisfaction as the raptor stilled.

He turned slightly, his body facing the beta.

_ClickClickClick._

"Blue!"

She only glanced up briefly before looking away again, standing motionless in the middle of the paddock.

Two more clicks.

"Blue! Come on! Lock it up!"

She hissed, baring her teeth at the man above, before tripping over her own feet. She let out an agitated squawk as she slowly rose again, shaking her head. Echo squealed, running to her packmate. The beta raptor wobbled slightly, growling again before emptying the contents of her stomach on the ground. She gave a low, pained groan as she brought her head up again.

A sinking feeling in the pit of Owen's stomach came upon the realization. In his adrenaline high, Owen couldn't recall when exactly he had called for emergency help. He didn't remember running to the gates, desperate to get them open. Everything was a blur. He barely registered shouting at the other handlers to contain Echo, ignoring their frustrated yelling as they herded her into her stall. The only thing he was truly aware of was how much time he had before it would be over.

His pounding heart nearly stopped seeing Blue collapse to the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me... 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	9. A Brush With Death

It had all happened so quickly; one minute, Owen was at Blue's side, holding her head down as Dr. Thales examined her, the next, he was sitting outside of a holding room near the enclosure, his feet tapping nervously on the concrete.

The human body worked in incredible ways, Owen's rush of adrenaline causing him to feel as if the whole situation never even happened. One of his greatest fears had been realized today. The pain he felt earlier had caused his body to grow numb.

The quiet turning of the doorknob interrupted Owen's thoughts as Tom stepped out of the room that held Blue, looking grim but calm. The Vet turned, not surprised at seeing Owen sitting just outside the door. "You're welcome to go in there with her, Owen," Tom said as he held the door open for a moment.

His offer was only met with a small shake of the head. Tom let the door close quietly as he shifted over to Owen's other side. The Vet exhaled slowly, taking a seat next to him. He looked over, matching Owen's posture. "This shouldn't have happened."

Owen felt himself scoff. "You think?"

"What I mean is… Well… After Wendy's, uh, passing," Tom swallowed, his voice catching in his throat at the mention of the late Allosaurus. "I came to a conclusion. Something had been playing at the back of my mind for a while now," He paused momentarily, as if he were waiting for the go-ahead from Owen. At the other man's silence, Tom continued. "As I told you before, I had originally thought that these illnesses were coming from vaccinations not being up to date, or a new disease being able to infiltrate the animals' immune systems. There was always the nagging thought, a terrible thought, that the Genetic Silencing Devices were defective, perhaps, or that they were causing some sort of issue—I hoped this wasn't the fact of course. My calculations were correct, they couldn't be. But as more assets fell ill it became clear the only animals getting sick were the ones with the G.S.D."

The meaning was not lost on Owen. If he hadn't been so drained, he would've been angry. "You put one of those things in Blue?" He asked, fearing the worst, already grieving for what that question meant for Blue.

Tom held his hands up in defense. "No! There was no reason for her to have one!" He put his hands down at the nod of Owen's head. "I must confess that I was bit relieved that my work wasn't what was killing all the assets. Blue didn't have a device! There was no record that she had one at any point in time."

"So… She's just… sick? Like normal-sick? Does she have what's killing all the other dinosaurs?"

Tom shook his head sadly. "She has been showing all of the same symptoms: dilated eyes, high fever, fatigue. When Wendy died, I began running some tests. The samples I took from her and some of the other non-viables, showed that a virus was wreaking havoc on their systems." He paused again, staring into the distance in front of him. Owen could tell that whatever Tom found upset him greatly.

"The virus was man made." Tom said quietly. " And It was coming from  _my_ G.S.D.." He chewed a the tip of his fore finger, a sign Owen recognized as a recovering nailbiter. "Forgive me if I don't go into too much detail. I thought—I hoped that when I heard Blue was sick that she was just down with a normal virus. But…" Tom wasn't meeting Owen's eyes. He just sat there chewing on his thumbnail and looking out at nothing.

Owen furrowed his brow, his expression etched with confusion. The grave seriousness in Tom's words brought back the uneasiness in Owen's stomach.

"I found one on her. Just under the arm." Tom's eyes turned and searched Owen's face, reading for any sort of response. "Someone put one in her. It was recent, too. The point of injection hadn't yet healed."

Owen swallowed. "Uh… Did you… Is she…?"

"I removed it," He stopped, seeing Owen's eyes fill with relief. Tom sighed, knowing the next bit of news would not get the same reaction. "But we aren't even sure only removing the device will be any help." He watched Owen's face turn unsettlingly blank. "The pseudo-virus from the device did a lot of damage already. But… there is always hope." The vet gave a small reassuring smile. "I'm working on a way to reverse the damage. We have all the assets genomes electronically saved. Including Blue's. You're lucky you called me so quickly. As we speak I have Dr. Robinson putting together a sequence that may save her. It will take awhile before it is ready, but as long as Blue holds on she'll get the cure."

A beat of silence passed between them. "Again, if you'd like to see her, it might help her hold on." With a final pat on the back, Tom rose from his chair, making his way down the corridor.

Owen sat wordlessly, his hands steepled under his chin in thought, the weight of what he had just learned heavy on his shoulders. He would have to wait until he was somewhat emotionally stable before he would bring himself to look at the raptor. Right now, he couldn't even bear the thought of her being in such critical condition. The fear of losing another one of his girls ate away at him. He knew at some point he would have to go in there, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it at that moment.

"Do you think it's safe for Echo to go in there?"

Tom gave his thousand-watt smile. "That sounds like a fantastic idea! I will get your team on that right away." The vet started talking into his radio and ordering for Echo to be moved into the holding room next to Blue's.

There was a part of him that was immensely thankful for what Tom had done for Blue. Owen had been so terrible to him all this time. The same feeling of guilt from the day before washed over him as he thought about how much of an asshole he'd been. Tom didn't deserve that.  _Claire_  didn't deserve that.

"Hey Tom?" Owen called out, breaking his spell of silence.

Tom half-turned, looking back to the raptor handler.

Owen gave another small nod. "Thanks."

The doctor smiled slightly, nodding in return before going on his way again.

Once again, Owen was left to his thoughts, his worrying. He sat forward in the chair, running his calloused hands over his tired face. He became aware of how much of an uneasy night he was about to have. He hoped Echo wouldn't be as protective of Blue as the beta was of her. He know how much his girls meant to each other and he knew how much they meant to him.

His traitorous mind had wandered back to the memory of Blue's hatching.

She had been so small, so fragile; but at the same time she was the most feisty and spirited creature he had ever seen. She had fought against his grip, her tiny claws cutting through the plastic gloves on his hands. Her tiny mouth latched onto his thumb, high pitched growls coming from her throat. She squealed in frustration as she was carried through the lab, thrashing wildly about.

Owen had kept a firm hand on her before placing her on the smooth surface of a lab table. The hatchling had stumbled a bit, this whole walking thing utterly new to her. She chirped at the chance of freedom, though still took her steps with excessive caution. She turned, her golden ' _too-big-for-her-body'_  eyes being met by much larger, green ones. She cocked her head to the side, giving a high-pitched chitter at the funny-looking creature before her.

_This is pack._

His chuckle startled her, causing her to hiss in surprise.

Owen was jarred out of his reminiscence by the sound of high heeled shoes tapping across concrete. He glanced up; Claire Dearing stood in front of him, her hands clasped together across her waist. "Hi," she said quietly, taking the empty seat next to him.

He only nodded in acknowledgement, her presence both upsetting and comforting. He figured his silence would turn her away, as it had been doing for the past week or so.

But she didn't leave. And she didn't speak. She simply sat in his silence with him.

Owen felt her hand move to rest on his, her thumb tracing light, comforting circles on his skin. He turned his head slightly to look at her, beginning to feel his heart swell with an unnamed emotion. She smiled her coy happy smile, the one that Owen found so endearing. For the first time that day, he felt his own lips twitch upward into the smallest of grins, yet his eyes still filled with worry.

The passage of time didn't occur to him as they sat there. Her company was all that mattered.

* * *

 The next day couldn't come quickly enough. Blue had made progress; she had even been able to hold her head up for a whole minute before becoming wrought with exhaustion. To Owen, this was everything. He had spent the night next to her holding room; he realized that the chance of never seeing her again was too great to risk just moping outside of the room. She had cooed warmly at the man as he came in, pleased chuffs accompanying various sickly sounds.

Echo had been just as happy to see him. She made her own greeting until Owen gave her a rub as well.

He had spent that night in the dark, concrete room, waking up periodically to the pained warbles coming from her, and Echo's concerned chittering.

The time had come for him to leave them; with a hesitant goodbye, Owen left, gently patting the raptors' snouts before disappearing.

It was after a few hours that Owen found himself in the control room, in a meeting with Tom and Claire to discuss the next step in saving the dinosaurs. Claire had taken the news better than expected, though that's not to say that she took it well at all. She didn't understand why, anyone would be messing with the devices. It didn't make any sense.

Tom had explained to her his development of the cure that could perhaps reverse the negative effects caused by the corrupted G.S.D.

It was in the middle of his long recounting of his idea that Tom got a radio call from Lizzie's handler, reporting that she was experiencing disorientation, vomiting, and seizures.

The Tyrannosaurus Rex of Jurassic World was one of the many assets  _not_  to receive the device; she was already elderly enough to be considered mildly docile, and she had proven many times in the past few years that she didn't have any desire for rampaging. Once again, the case of an unauthorized G.S.D. injection had apparently occurred.

Tom cursed under his breath, requesting a medkit and another Vet over the radio attached to his polo as he stormed out of the office. He stopped short of the elevator, nearly running into Dr. Jackie Robinson.

He didn't have time for this.

"Dr. Robinson, where are your supplies?" He asked, glancing briefly at the clock behind her.

Her eyes shifted nervously, feeling the pressure of being under the simultaneous glaring of Tom, Claire, and Owen. "It's Dr. Wilson's shift." She said quickly, attempting to step passed the Head Vet.

Tom threw an arm out in front of her. "Dr. Wilson is on vacation."

"So get someone else, I am on a break."

"You're needed now! Get your kit," Women could be so damn stubborn. Sometimes, Tom didn't know why anyone put up with them.

She folded her arms across her chest, holding her head up defiantly. "I wasn't needed when your 'pride and joy' bit it"

"Damn it, Dr. Robinson, _move!_   _You're_ on duty now. Let's go."

* * *

 Owen and Claire watched the screen with bated breath; fearful of losing one of Jurassic World's most valuable—both for monetary and sentimental reasons—attractions. Lizzie, or to some, Rexy, had been on this island from the very beginning. It had been hypothesized that twenty-years for a T-Rex was the average life-span, but Lizzie was nearing twenty-five. She certainly wasn't the same girl she was all those years ago. They knew that the time would come for her to pass, but no one on Isla Nublar expected it to be in this way.

Her fate now lay in the hands of the two Vets.

Owen turned to Claire; she was standing motionless as she watched the screen, her face a ghostly shade of white. From their time together, Owen had learned of Claire's affection for the old girl. Claire felt both fear and utter respect for the Tyrannosaur. He gently nudged the woman on the arm. "Tom's got this. I think he might actually be a superhero." Owen's attempt at lightening the mood seemed to do the trick, earning himself a light chuckle from Claire.

She didn't respond for a moment, her eyes transfixed by the monitor. She finally tore her gaze away, turning to face Owen completely. "I know what happened you know. I'm not blind."

Owen frowned in confusion, only realizing what she was referring to as she gave a pointed look to his still bruised hand. "Yeah, Tom fell, I tried to catch him, blah blah blah, you know the story," He replied, his voice tinted in humor.

He mentally patted himself on the back as Claire's mouth twitched upward. "I'm glad you find that so funny," she said dryly, trying to hide the glimmer of amusement. "You're very fortunate that Tom is such a nice guy," her voice now more serious. "He could've had you fired for that."

Owen nodded in understanding, looking down for a moment. "Yeah, I know."

He did know. Anyone else would have reported him. As long as Tom kept quiet about it, it never happened. There were no witnesses besides Jackie, who was more likely to  _marry_ Tom than tattle on the man who punched him. Assaulting a coworker never really went down well in the workplace, even if it was arguable whether or not the guy deserved it. "No, we wouldn't want that, now would we?" Owen asked, his eyes locking with Claire's.

"No," She replied, giving another small smile. "We wouldn't."

* * *

 The Central American heat was unforgiving, the humidity causing Tom's shirt to cling to his skin. He stepped into the enclosure, Jackie trailing close behind. The trees only slightly helped at blocking the harsh rays of the sun. The distant echo of bird calls sounded around them, the occasional song-like Apatosaurus bellow ringing through the air.

Tom sighed, adjusting his grip on the medkit before making his trek through the T-Rex Kingdom.

* * *

 "It's only your first week, Owen," Claire reminded, her reprimanding tone not lost on him. "You can't just go around punching every man that pisses you off."

Owen almost laughed, though he stopped himself, knowing that the action would not go over well with the woman scolding him. "Oh, I know. I'll be honest, people here are makin' it really hard not to."

Claire wasn't amused, though her expression showed that she understood what Owen meant. From his first day here, Claire had seen exactly what he was talking about. There were certain employees that had been bound from the very beginning to be adversaries.

He didn't really need to elaborate; Claire knew exactly who he was referring to.

He did anyway.

"So, this Bill Mundy. You wanna explain that to me?"

For some reason, she knew this would come up in conversation. She chewed at her lip, calculating exactly how she would explain the situation. "For the record," she began. "I was not the one who hired him. You can thank Mr. Hale for that," she said, her tone taking on a bitter edge. "You see, Mr. Hale is a man who likes results, and Mr. Mundy gives him that."

Owen huffed. "Okay, but at what cost? That man's raptors are barely dinosaurs any more. Sure they listen to him, but only 'cause he took shortcuts."

"Again; Mr. Mundy gives results. That's all Mr. Hale cares about," she countered. "I told you before, Mr. Hale wants the raptors to become an attraction. I can't say that I agree with Mr. Mundy's methods for achieving that, and I'll agree, his animals are miserable, but it's not my place to say anything about it."

Owen couldn't decide if he was actually mad at Claire or not for just sitting back and watching the Jurassic World go to hell. He knew that to a degree, she had done nothing wrong. She was only doing what made her boss happy. She was just doing what she could to survive. "You can't fire him or anything?"

Claire shook her head solemnly. "The man is on a four-year contract with Mr. Hale himself. Mr. Mundy has connections. We've been gradually trying to get him into more of the paperwork aspect of raptor handling, but that itself has taken more than a year. When you took the job here, we were able to make his training exclusively with the younger raptors. Your return has helped us make actual progress. Believe me, if I could fire him, I would. All we know is that you will  _definitely_  have input in who we hire next."

The sound of Tom's voice coming through the radio caught their attention. They're eyes flew to the monitor, watching as Tom made his way to the unconscious dinosaur.

* * *

 "Paddock nine to control, I've made it to Lizzie," Tom spoke into his radio.

The Tyrannosaur lay on the ground, stretched across the width of the enclosure. Her breathing was slow and steady, the occasional snore coming from her snout. It was eerie, seeing the animal in such a state of comatose. Tom moved closer, his gloved hands reaching out to touch her. He ran his hands slowly across her side, feeling the uneven surface of skin-covered ribs. He pursed his lips as he moved to her large head. Being this close to something that at one point could kill a man sent a shiver down Tom's spine. Even though she was out cold, he wasn't taking any chances. "Dr. Robinson, a tranq please."

The blonde vet startled at his voice, her too being nervously transfixed by the carnivore. "I didn't bring any."

Tom sighed in exasperation and turned his head toward her as he crouched next to the massive jaw. "There's one in my bag," He replied coolly, gesturing to the bag he left at the creature's feet.

Her eyeroll did not go unnoticed, prompting a similar action on Tom's behalf. The blonde easily reached into the bag, pulling from it a small glass and an injection needle. She was only half-way to him when she lost her footing, dropping the small vial on the rocky ground, the container shattering into tiny pieces.

He would not yell. No, he would not.

He only sighed, hanging his head in frustration, ignoring Jackie's insincere apologies. "Just go get another one, please."

Without another word or protest, Jackie left.

" _How's it going out there?_ " Tom heard Owen's voice from the radio.

"Uh, fine. Dr. Robinson went to get more carfentanil, but at this point…" He trailed off, watching Lizzie's middle rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. "All other cases were unable to recover after their first seizure." He rose to his feet, moving to grab his medkit again. There was something odd about this case; he just couldn't place it.

He began searching for any strange imperfections in the skin; running his hands over where injections would have been made. To his utter confusion, there was nothing apart from scars that had already been there. For a moment, he marveled at just how this old girl had survived nearly twenty-five years on this island. He made another tactile inspection along her major arteries to check once more for any traces of GSD injections.

More than ten minutes had passed, and Jackie had not yet returned. Growing more impatient, Tom began doing basic examination protocol; taking her temperature, recording heart-rate, checking airways for anything abnormal. His confusion deepened as he pulled out the thermometer. "Her temperature's normal," he informed into the radio. "No fever."

He moved to her front, carefully peering into her nostrils. "Airways are clear," He added, scratching his head in puzzlement. Perhaps her heart rate was irregular?

It wasn't.

"Uh, resting heart-rate at fifteen. Breathing seems normal."

Maybe her eyes were…

The cold, tingling sensation ripped through Tom again as he carefully pried her eyes open, staring into the dark golden orbs. "Eyes aren't dilated."

" _That doesn't make any sense…_ " Owen's voice spoke again.

It was the movement of Lizzie's tail that nearly caused Tom to jump out of his skin. The Tyrannosaur let out a sleepy groan, the skin on her neck rippling. The rise and fall of her chest increased in speed, her breathing changing drastically.

"My friends," Tom spoke as calmly as he could into the radio. "Would you kindly open the doors for me?"

" _Tom, what's going on?_ "

The Tyrannosaur's feet began to move, folding under her body, flexing in an attempt to move off the ground. She shifted slightly, another groan escaping her as she tried again.

Tom felt as if he couldn't move. "She's awake."

* * *

 The entire control room watched the Tyrannosaur's movements, the room collectively holding a single breath. Tom was in there with a known man eater; he was in there with a sick dinosaur, who wasn't sick at all. Her massive tail swept from side-to-side, just barely brushing against Tom's legs.

" _Would you all kindly have the door open for me when I am ready? I need to take a look at something._ " Tom's strangely calm voice came through the speaker, his image on the screen bending over to retrieve a tool from his medkit.

"No, no, no!" Claire snatched the radio from Owen's hand. "Tom, you need to get out of there  _now_!" She felt her panic and worry rise as he ignored her order. She exhaled heavily, bringing the radio away from her mouth. "Will somebody get the  _damn_  door opened?!" She immediately turned to her right, pointing to Lowery, seated in the third row, who was staring in shock at the monitor. "Lowery, for God's sake, the door!"

"Alright, I'm on it. One open door, coming right up!" Lowery was frantically pressing various button combinations, typing in numerous key-codes. Nothing was working, causing Lowrey to curse in frustration as his attempts were met with warning beeps. "Um...the door's locked, I mean it's stuck, I mean it won't open! It keeps saying 'access denied'!"

"What the hell?" Claire pushed her way to the man, slamming her hand against the table as she read the screen, confirming her fears. She was not about to lose another life, a valuable one at that. "Keep trying. Get Dr. Thales out of there!" Her vision clouded for a moment, her legs began shaking. This couldn't be happening. She felt herself go cold and her hands started trembling. It was too familiar. The feeling of panic exactly as she had remembered. It felt as if she was thrown suddenly into the same crisis of two years ago, feeling as if the incident had never really ended. She threw her hand out, gripping the railing at the top of the steps.

No. There was no time for hysterics. She sucked in a breath, before standing straight up, her hand still grasping the cold metal railing. She looked over to her left, her eyes greeted by Owen's own worried expression. Giving a small nod, she stepped forward, returning to her station.

The T-Rex's movements could be heard and seen through the surveillance camera; the entire room fell into silence as the dinosaur rose slowly, shaking her head.

Tom, having decided against staying and investigating further, began cautiously backing away. " _The door, please?_ "

"We're working on it. Hang in there," Owen spoke into the radio, matching the calmness in his tone to Tom's. Panicking at that moment might have caused more trouble than anything.

* * *

 The Head Vet found that he couldn't move; he stood there, frozen, watching the elderly dinosaur groggily rise from her sleep. He knew that running would only make matters worse, as her vision was based on movement. But he also knew that she would eventually pick up his scent. Both possibilities could end with his death and neither of those scenarios were desirable. Deciding that his best course of action was to keep quiet and low, he crouched slightly, inch-by-inch making his way to one of the employee entrances.

A low rumble, that Tom could feel throughout his body, came from the now fully arrect dinosaur. Tom's stomach started to knot and turn to ice, his heartbeat increasing by the second until all he could hear was the thundering in his ears. He briefly glanced behind him, not daring to lose sight of the Tyrannosaur. She gave a half-hearted bellow as she took her first step and shook her head again as if to remove the remains of any sleepiness. The ground tremmoring beneath him, Tom grabbed the tree next to him for support. "I hate to be a bother again," Tom whispered with panic veiled in sarcasm. "But I do need the door opened."

He could barely understand the words coming through the other end, absently muting out any other sound besides the rumbling of the awakened dinosaur. He somehow managed to focus on one soothing voice, " _Tom, you're doing great. Just stay calm. She doesn't see you. She's still very groggy. We are working on the door. But we need you need to just stay calm._ "

Tom nodded his head, finding himself unable to distinguish who had just spoken."Yes, I am finding it rather difficult, staying calm." He gave another quick look over his shoulder. He wasn't even halfway to the keeper gate, yet the door was still firmly shut. Sweat, that had nothing to do with the tropical climate, dripped down his forehead, stinging his eyes. His chest began constricting and a few forced, small dry gasp like coughs escaped him. "I don't want to alarm you but I might be experiencing a cardiac arrest. That, or my arrhythmia is back," He gave another few muffled wheezing coughs, "Yes, I am experiencing palpitations, I will need a full medical team to meet me at the door with a crash cart."

" _You're fine Tom, You're not having a heart attack. I need you to get on the goat-lift._ "

The vet immediately shook his head, his eyes still never wavering from the large lumbering creature. "Oh no thank you, I will not be getting on Lizzie's dinner plate!"

" _Just unt-ou-ungr-way."_ The voice on the radio crackled and lagged. Tom's heart, which was already pounding began pulsing with renewed vigor. His chest was now aching with each beat.

"Hello? Anyone? Oh God, please help!" Tom begged quietly. Only cold static answered him.

Another quick glance. He was three fourths of the way to the gate. Once he was in the alcove he would be out of sight and could rest until the defective door was pried open.

The radio began squealing, followed by high pitched static. Something or someone was interfering with the radios. The receiver started a feedback loop that caused Tom to frantically search for the off switch. His blurred eyes were burning with unshed tears of panic. The horrible realization that Lizzie had heard the shrieking pitch of the radio struck Tom with a paralyzing fear. The dinosaur turned sharply, her eyes now gazing in his direction.

* * *

 Owen's eyes widened in horror as he watched the Tyrannosaur's attention shift suddenly. He searched the room, his eyes falling on Claire as she frantically gave orders to everyone in the room. He looked back to the screen, an idea forming in his head; an impulsive, risky,  _idiotic_  idea. There had already been so much death on this island; he wasn't about to let another one happen. Without a single word, he sprinted out of the room.

* * *

 The tropical, humid air only seemed to grow hotter as Tom remained in paddock nine, a large tree trunk shielding him from the Tyrannosaur's searching gaze. He folded his hands together, silently praying for a way out of this. Still, he remained as visibly calm as ever, though his body was covered in a thick sheen of sweat. The same could not be said for how his mind and heart felt. The ground quaked beneath him as the dinosaur took faster steps. He didn't dare peer over the other side of the over grown tree, the fear of showing himself too great of a risk. He looked in front of him; the service door wasn't far, but it would still take longer than he would want. At the pace he had been going, the fifty-foot walk would be a marathon.

An earth-shaking roar cut through the thick air. Tom's hands flew to cover his ears, wincing at the sheer volume. Taking a deep, shaky breath, he put a foot in front of him in an attempt to drag himself to the door. To his utter horror, his other foot wouldn't budge. He looked back, his stomach leaping into his chest seeing his foot caught between two large roots.

Tom tried to free himself from the base of the tree. He rose carefully, trying in vain to control his erratic breathing. He made the mistake of looking past the tree, choking back his panic as he watched the Tyrannosaur moving toward him; he frantically twisted in an attempt to escape the snaring roots, but lost his balance and fell at an awkward angle. He was barely able to catch himself on the tree before the unthinkable happened. He heard the snap before he felt it. A searing pain shot up his trapped leg. Tom bit his fist to muffle a scream. His heart was pounding in fear and his head becoming addled with agony. All his weight was on his good leg. His hand let go of the tree to grasp at his panicking, erratically beating chest. His vision began to tunnel and a wave of dizziness washed over him.

He was still conscious as he fell to the ground. But when the back of his head bounced off one of the large roots behind him with a sickening crack, all went black.

* * *

 

Owen ignored Claire's angry pleas over the radio, punching in a series of numbers into paddock nine's keypad. He pushed past the door as it opened, his feet pounding on the hard concrete as he ran down the hall.

" _What the hell are you doing, Owen?!_ "

He didn't answer, finally reaching the metal door, his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. He stopped short of the small window in the door, searching for any sign of Tom in the enclosure. His eyes fell on the man, scrambling to pull the door open as he watched Tom fall, his head colliding with the ground. Owen desperately yanked at the door, growling in frustration as the damn thing stayed shut.

Another idea hatched in his mind, a strong possibility being that this wouldn't even work. He tightened his grip on the handle, shaking it slightly, testing how sturdy it was. The man exhaled sharply, throwing himself against the metal door, wincing in pain the contact. He silently cursed the park for not adding emergency exits to any of the enclosures. He would definitely have a word with building management on that one. With another deep breath, he once again hurled himself into the door. A small glimmer of hope manifested as the door budged minutely. With one final heave, he felt the door give. His feeling of accomplishment was short lived; a white cold pain shot through the length of his right arm. He blinked back the hazy vision. He turned his head slightly, his eyes falling on his shoulder. He winced, seeing the round bump nearly poking through the skin. Gritting his teeth, he moved forward, ignoring the discomfort.

He froze in his tracks, hyper aware of the location of the T-Rex. She stood not ten feet from Tom. She lowered her head to the man's body, inhaling and exhaling against him.

Owen searched the paddock, for something,  _anything_ , that could get the dinosaur distracted even if only for a moment. He finally pulled at his radio, crouching behind a boulder. "Hey can we get a goat in here? Preferably now?"

There was a crackle over the other end, followed by a series of jumbled words.

He almost felt himself sigh in relief as the goat braying cut through the air. The T-Rex lifted her head sharply, now completely disinterested in the unconscious man below her. As soon as Lizzie was out of sight, Owen ran to Tom, cursing at the man's condition. The mangled limb was stuck in roots as thick as Owen's arm.  _How'd the guy get it in there in the first place?_  It didn't take _too_  long for Owen to free the injured leg with only one working hand of his own.

Owen began whispering urgently "Dr. Thales? Tom? Wake up, bud. Come on." Owen not-so-gently shook the man's shoulder in an attempt to rouse him. Tom only gave a pained groan in response. Owen huffed, before grabbing the concussed man's arm with his own uninjured limb, dragging him along the ground. "You owe me, man," Owen grunted out, struggling to pull the man along the dirt.

Tom stirred, his eyes half-opening. "Owen? Oh thank you, my friend," he said sleepily.

"Yeah, yeah," Owen responded, his voice laced with panic and irritation.

"Now, I think… I think I…" Tom drawled, struggling to find his words. "I think I may have a… compression… No… concoction… con…"

"Concussion?" Owen finished for the Head Vet, ignoring the dull ache in his lower back. "Yeah, you hit your head pretty hard. Now stay with me, alright?"

"Okay… But I need to vomit…"

"Can you hold it just a little longer?"

The nearby roar followed by the crunching of bones only fueled their panic. Owen looked behind them, not allowing the relief just yet at how close they were to the door. Tom turned his head to the sky. "You're so strong… You know that? So many muscles… I wish I looked like you…"

Owen didn't have time to be disturbed by the uncharacteristic compliments. He only nodded, gritting his teeth in both pain and frustration, his heels sinking slightly into the damp forest floor.

"You know, Claire likes muscles… Claire likes you… A lot…"

He had to ignore Tom's delirious words, knowing that the man was not in his right mind. Still, those last words struck a chord within Owen, but he didn't have the time to reflect on them. That would have to come later. Right now, it only caused distraction. He noticed Tom beginning to fall back into unconsciousness. Knowing that conversation could possibly help keep the man awake, Owen reluctantly encouraged the man to continue. "Oh, really?"

Tom scoffed lazily. "Yes!... She thinks you're pretty… She's not wrong…"

Owen wanted to laugh. There was a small part of him that was celebrating at the ramblings of the addled injured man. But mostly he was too busy trying to make it to the safety of the alcove.

The Tyrannosaur's heavy footsteps started again, the shaking of the ground becoming more intense with each step. Owen felt his blood turn cold. She was getting closer. Owen picked up his speed, being so close to the door causing him to throw all sense of caution and pace out the window. She soon came into view, her teeth stained in red. Owen and Tom were now between their escape and a bloody end. He knew that just because Lizzie had eaten did not mean she wouldn't take the opportunity for an after-dinner snack.

She let out an ungodly roar before stomping toward them. Owen struggled to pull Tom across the ground faster, cursing loudly as the large theropod advanced on them.

Soon, the cold concrete was beneath them, the dark corridor shielding them from the harsh sun. Owen stumbled backward, tossing Tom aside as he yanked the broken door shut. He covered his ears as the frustrated bellow came from the other side. He shook his head, the pain in his shoulder made itself known, knocking the wind out of him. He looked out of the window, watching with bated breath as the dinosaur disappeared into the foliage.

"Grumpy old hag," Owen mumbled, as relief of safety flowed through his adrenaline fueled body.

Tom began laughing. Owen joined him but stopped, as he watched Tom's face contort into one of discomfort and unease. The vet held up his fore finger, before emptying the contents of his stomach onto the concrete floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this one!! Thanks for reading, commenting, and leaving kudos! You are all amazing. :)


	10. Bedside Manner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will be a break from all of the action. Enjoy! :)

A dislocated shoulder.

Owen had gotten by with a dislocated shoulder while Tom barely made it out with a severe concussion and a fractured tibia. They were both lucky to be alive, Tom more so than Owen. The Head Vet was whisked off in another direction while a medic tended to Owen's shoulder. The injury had began to swell in the hour of time between the enclosure and the clinic, making popping the joint back into place all the more painful.

He sat still, his left hand gripping the padded edge of the exam table, his teeth gritting in pain as the doctor tried for a third time to move the arm bone back into the socket. Owen's stomach churned at the sickening ' _pop_ ', stars dotting in his vision for a moment at the pain; he began to feel slight relief as the initial discomfort began to decrease. It was short lived though; just as one pain ended, another had taken its place. Focusing on the ticking of the clock on the wall seemed to help minimally, functioning as a momentary distraction from the shooting pain he felt as his arm was placed in a blue Jurassic World sling.

The doctor's words became lost on Owen, his mind only being able to focus on the throbbing pain in his shoulder. The only words he was actually able to make out of the inane babble were, "rest," "ice," and "rehabilitation." The doctor left, a nurse coming in shortly after, handing Owen an ice pack for the pain. He thanked the nurse before gingerly placing the cold compress on his injury. The nurse smiled, jotting a few notes down onto a tablet before closing the door shut on her way out.

Owen sat on the padded exam table, his left hand growing numb from the cold of the ice pack. The doctor had said to keep it in place for twenty to thirty minutes, but after ten, the frosty sensation began to cause another pain. He startled upon hearing the clicking of the door, quickly returning the cold object to his shoulder, expecting the doctor to have returned, only to remove it once again as he saw who it was. He was honestly surprised when the person entering the room wasn't medical personnel.

Claire paused at the entrance, her calculating eyes roaming over Owen as if she were inspecting the damage. She clicked the door shut behind her, moving fully into the examination room. He noticed her stare lingering on the blue sling. "Dislocated shoulder," He said, answering her unasked question. He shrugged slightly, the movement causing him to wince, as she looked up from the sling. "How's Tom?"

She folded her arms to her chest, neither in defense nor in self-consciousness. "He's…" She struggled to find the right word for it. The man was far from fine, but he wasn't knocking at death's door either. "Alive," she concluded, briefly glancing down at her toes. "He's doing as well as he can with a concussion and broken leg."

Owen nodded in understanding, pursing his lips slightly.

"He's resting now," Claire had taken a careful step toward Owen. "The doctor won't give him any morphine for his leg because of the concussion, so he's only been given acetaminophen, which doesn't really help much at all... but he's pulling through."

There was a beat of silence before Claire spoke again. "I wanted to thank you," she said, her tone stoic and professional, while also possessing the faintest edge of weakness. "For saving Tom."

Owen could see right through the business-like front, the raw emotion still present in her eyes. He could hear the slight catch in her voice as she spoke. In all honesty, he didn't know what to say to that. No words could adequately follow up what Claire's expression of gratitude, and any attempt would surely come off as pretentious.

It turned out that she didn't need a response. "I can't thank you enough for what you did. Tom is very important to me."

Owen felt his heart sink, once again finding himself fighting back the burning sensation in his eyes. There had been that small, naive glimmer of hope that Claire would come back to him after this. It happened in all of the cliche stories, so why not now? But it was foolish of him to even think that. He had already accepted what was going on; there was no going back. He swallowed, attempting to match the weak grin on her lips. "I can tell." He finally said, his own voice catching slightly.

Her brow furrowed in concern, but only for a moment, before she leaned in. Owen froze, unsure of what her next step would be, not daring to move himself in fear of scaring her away. She planted a light kiss on Owen's stubbled cheek, lingering for a moment. She pulled away, placing her hand where her lips had been. Her concern was replaced by a sad, far-away expression at his silence. She sighed, stepping out of his personal space.

He watched as she turned to the door, passing him another glance before stepping out of the examination room. His cheek felt warm, almost burning from where her lips had touched. He had wanted so badly to grab her and kiss her properly at that moment, to show her how he felt, but he had controlled the urge. His whole body felt numb, either from shock, the pain, or the medication, he didn't know. Perhaps it was a mix of all three. Tom's jumbled words from earlier still echoed in Owen's mind. He knew better than to believe them though. Claire had moved on; this was a fact he had struggled to grasp and was only now fully understanding it. It had in no way come easy to Owen; it came with pain. It was still a fresh wound, not healing as it should.

A heavy sigh escaped him as he gripped the ice pack in his hand, placing it back on to his aching shoulder.

* * *

 As it was said before, Tom was not so fortunate.

After another twenty minutes in the examination room, Owen made his way to where Tom's room was, deciding that it would be courteous to at least see how the man was doing; his other motivation giving him more of a reason to worry. He gently rapped on the door with his left hand, the pain in his right shoulder having decreased significantly. A weak, "Come in!" prompted Owen to open the door, taking in the sight before him.

Tom lay in the white hospital bed, his leg propped up in a bulky white cast. A grimace of excruciation etched across Tom's face, his head wrapped in blue bandages. "Owen!" Tom managed, determined not to let his discomfort affect his attitude. He waved his hand for the raptor handler to come over. "How are you, my friend?"

If it weren't for the pain from the injury—or major case of heartache—Owen would have been amused by Tom's grumpy, concussed state. Owen gave a light chuckle in spite of himself. "I've been better."

"You can say that again! I'm rather poorly! I will warn you, I'm not myself right now, as the horrid doctor refuses to give me any pain medication!"

Owen smiled again, nodding at the very moody man. "I can tell." He shifted back and forth on his heels, pursing his lips as he looking around the room. He eyed the vet carefully, taking in just how serious the injuries were. This could have been easily prevented. "Why didn't you leave? You had plenty of time to get out of there."

Tom sobered slightly, though his speech was still slurred. "I had to see why Lizzie had behaved so strangely. I was able to get a blood sample, but I left my bag… wait… no, I think someone got it. Hopefully."

"I'm sure Jackie got it," Owen offered, noticing the distressed expression on Tom's face.

Tom shook his head vigorously, then stopped suddenly and held his aching head. "No, she never returned. She left me in there." His expression grew cold, his voice stabilizing ever so slightly. "I don't trust her. I can't help but think she's behind this."

Owen would be lying if he said that he hadn't considered that as a possibility at some point. Dr. Robinson was such a small, unassuming girl; she could easily get away with anything if she tried, but still, it seemed too easy an assumption. "You really think she's smart enough to pull that off?"

"No," Tom said simply, leaning back into the pillows. "Someone's helping her. Ugh! Women. Why do people like them so much?"

Owen found himself puzzled by Tom's strange question. "You like Claire," He reasoned.

A large smile spread over Tom's face, traces of pain vanishing for a moment. "Oh! My Darling Dearing! Claire is wonderful. I love her! She is a beautiful red-haired angel sent from heaven."

"She is," Owen found himself nodding in agreement at the odd, yet somehow fitting description. As usual, when he was uncomfortable, his hand went to the back of his neck. That would be something he'd have to work on. "I actually wanted to talk to you about her."

Tom lifted his head slightly. "What about her?"

"Well, first off," Owen began, debating on whether or not to take the seat next to the bed-ridden vet. "I wanted to apologize for being a complete dick this whole time. I was— _am_ — an asshole, and you don't deserve that."

Tom waved his hand dismissively, his face ever smiling even in pain.

"Granted, I still think you can be an annoying little shit," Owen chuckled as Tom seemed taken aback by the statement before joining in on the laughter. "But that's not the point. All those times I wanted to punch you were because I was angry. Angry and jealous."

Tom's face contorted into one of confusion and concern. His pained expression seemed to fade away into worry. "Why?"

Owen bit the inside of his cheek, realizing to what exact scale the difficulty of this was. "You make Claire happy and... she really cares about you. I just couldn't stand seeing her with someone else after all we went through together."

The look of confusion on Tom's face deepened, though he didn't stop Owen in his speech.

"I had my time with her, and as amazing as it was, I can't get it back. I can't believe it took me this long to get the message, but I finally got it," Owen paused, not entirely ready to say the next part. This was it. This would be his defeat. "You won. She's yours. I'll back off."

There was a beat of silence before the room was filled with Tom's confused laughter. Owen's eyes narrowed at the man, his own bewilderment coming from why this insane man was snickering. The new, but remembered, feeling of irritation filled Owen at Tom's response. "What's so funny?" As far as Owen knew, this was a serious conversation, not some joke.

Tom took a deep breath, only pausing to wince as his laughter got out of hand. He finally collected himself, the pain and concussion obviously still having a strong effect on his mental stability. "Okay, first of all, my friend, she's not yours to give," He finally said, holding his hands up in defense as he noticed Owen's fist clenched. "Secondly; frankly, I  _really_  don't want her."

Owen didn't know whether to feel angry or perplexed. He opened his mouth to speak, finding himself unable to produce comprehensible words. The nerve of Dr. Thales was unbelievable. Was he serious? Had he been leading Claire on this whole time?

"Do you think she and I are together? Because she's not really my type."

It was anger. Owen forgot the pain for a brief moment, the new feeling providing a brief distraction. "What do you mean you don't  _want_  her? Tom, she loves you! You'd be an idiot to let her get away!"

Tom wiped a tear of amusement and pain from his eye. "Again; I mean it, she's  _not_  my type."

"Not your type?" Owen asked incredulously. "Not  _your type?_  Are you insane? If you aren't wanting someone as beautiful, intelligent, and powerful as Claire, then you're a bigger moron than I thought. Claire Dearing is what every woman can only dream of being. You'd be damn lucky to have her, Tom. Take it from the guy who was dumb enough to lose her, alright? She's the most important thing in the world to me. I swear to God, if you hurt her, if you break her heart, if you even make her cry, you'll have a lot more to worry about than a broken leg—Why the hell are you still smiling?!"

Tom's eyes flew between Owen and the door behind him, his huge smile plastered across his pale face. "I must say, it's about damn time!" Tom said, beaming.

Owen tilted his head in confusion before turning slowly to see what the hell this man was so amused by. His heart nearly stopped seeing Claire standing a few feet behind him, a shocked expression stretched across her face. He swallowed once again finding himself unable to speak, wondering if she had heard anything that he just said. In his rant, he had failed to hear the door open and close behind him.

Tom laughed. "My Darling Dearing! Did you hear? Owen actually thought we were an item!"

Claire blinked, tilting her head slightly as if to ask, _'Really?'._  She gave an amused huff.

Now Owen was thoroughly puzzled. He had expected her to become wrought with despair at the idea that Tom didn't share his feelings for her, that he was using her. Owen was now finding out that she wasn't at all fazed by this. In fact, she found it  _funny_. "Why would you think that?" She asked.

"Uh, well, I just… You guys were…" He stammered awkwardly, cursing silently to himself as he scratched the back of his neck again.

Claire cocked her head to the side, passing a knowing glance to Tom.

Owen looked between the two, frustrated that he  _still didn't get it_.

"Owen," Claire said, trying to mask the humor in her tone with seriousness. _"You're_  more of Tom's type than I am." She stifled a laugh as Owen's face contorted in bewilderment.

_What?_

Another humored glanced passed between the two. Tom held his hand up, stopping Claire from saying anything. "Give him time. It will come to him."

Was he missing something vitally important here? Owen looked at them both, every possibly scenario running through his head. It didn't make sense. Why would Owen be more so of Tom's ideal companion than Claire? Owen was a  _guy_ for crying out loud—

_Oh._

He hadn't even considered  _that._

The realization came as a surprise to Owen; he blinked twice, furrowing his brow as he tried to process the new information. He wanted to make sure that his new assumptions were correct. "Is Tom… Are you saying he's gay?"

"Bingo!" Tom laughed and winced again in pain.

"You're surprised?" Claire asked as she suppressed another guffaw, finding herself astonished that Owen had been so unobservant.

Without thinking, and without even really knowing why he had done so, Owen moved to Claire, standing closer than what was considered platonic. He still found himself at a loss for words as he looked down at her, watching her face as she pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. Now that he was in close proximity with her, he wasn't quite sure how to proceed, and to be honest, he wasn't sure how he felt either; a mixture of even more confusion from the news, relief that Claire had not found someone else, and anger that she didn't make that fact clear in the first place all welled within him.

"Are you going to kiss her?" Tom asked teasingly behind them. "If you are, I'd rather you not do it here. I'm feeling a little woozy and I might vomit again if I see anything too disgusting."

Claire's smile faltered for a moment, her eyes searching Owen's blank expression for any hint of emotion. Her own expectant expression seemed to ask if he would take Tom up on his question. Disappointment flashed across her features as Owen stood motionless in front of her; not doing  _anything_. Claire cleared her throat, lowering her voice so that only Owen could hear. "Can we talk?"

* * *

 The fluorescent bulbs from the hall cast large shadows over the quiet waiting room of the park infirmary. The room was empty, save for Claire and Owen, who were now seated next to each other, neither one entirely sure how to proceed. Two years apart had certainly taken a toll on their conversation skills with one another.

There were so many unanswered questions in Owen's mind; he didn't even know where to start. They all flooded his thoughts, each begging to be asked and answered first. An overwhelming feeling of stress resounded within him.

He wouldn't ask why she came back; that answer, though left unsaid, was already known to him. No, he would much rather know why she wouldn't tell him such an important detail such as, oh, he didn't know, not actually being in a relationship. The ambiguity of it all had already caused him so much agony. He had originally thought that she didn't want to be with him because of the nature of her and Tom's relationship; now, Owen was realizing that along with not even being with Tom, she just didn't want to pursue anything further with Owen.

And that was painful.

The two of them sat in silence, the only sound being the ticking of the clock on the wall. In all honesty, neither of them knew how to get through this. They both had their own need for answers, and not entirely in different ways. It was just that neither of them knew exactly where to start. Claire was the first to break the quiet, bringing her hand to rest on Owen's arm. "Did you really think Tom and I were together?" She asked in a hushed tone.

"You never denied it." There was an edge to his words; a hurt that she hadn't anticipated. He had said it so easily, as if the response had been waiting on the tip of his tongue. "Hell, Claire, everything pointed to it. I'll admit, my jealousy may have played a part in painting that picture… but you didn't think for once to maybe explain anything at all to me?"

"I thought you already knew about Tom. You never asked, so I just assumed that you understood."

"Well, I didn't," he snapped.

Her hand moved away as she felt the bite of his words. "I would have told you if there was anything serious between Tom and I."

Owen chose to ignore her claim, finding it easier to vent his feelings rather than listen to reason. "Even before I came back, I didn't know what was going on. I didn't know if Blue was alright, I didn't know if you would ever speak to me again, hell, I didn't really know if I'd ever  _see_  you again." The anger in Owen's tone had been replaced by one of melancholy. "And I come back to this damn island and… and Blue's sick, maybe dying... these damn scientists still haven't learned a fucking thing, and… you're just back to what you were before the incident… and with this new, perfect guy. You acted like 'we' never even happened."

A pang of guilt shot through Claire's heart as she felt the emotion in Owen's voice, though she felt herself bristle at the accusation. "Well, you acted like you were just looking for fun."

He stared at her incredulously. "Dammit Claire, I told you it was never just about that! How can you still think I'm only interested in sex?"

"For one, you've been avoiding me all week after flirting incessantly."

"You made it pretty clear nothing was going to happen between us."

"I had to be professional, Owen!" Claire huffed, running an exasperated hand through her hair. "I can't run an entire theme park and let my heart rule over my head," he looked up as if to respond, but she stopped him. "But it was hard. I hadn't anticipated your coming back would be as difficult for me as it was. I was thriving again! The park was due to open in a month, I had just received a pay-raise, and the park was flourishing. I actually felt like I was getting somewhere… But seeing you again compromised all of that."

Owen scoffed, feeling slightly offended. "Well why'd you hire me if I caused so much trouble? You seem to be doing just fine now."

She looked at him in disbelief, her head tilting slightly as she rose to her feet. "It really wasn't my choice. We needed someone who knew the animals, and Barry turned it down flat," she remarked, folding her arms across her chest. "And for the record, I'm not fine. I  _haven't_  been fine. Do you actually think this has been easy for me? I thought  _you_  had moved on, and I had to convince myself to do the same. And then you come here and make me question everything!  _You_  brought feelings back that I tried so hard to get rid of!" She paused momentarily, catching her breath. "Look, I know I ended things, but you aren't the only one who suffered." In her rant, she had begun pacing restlessly. Realizing her actions, she stopped, planting her feet firmly in front of Owen.

Owen bit the inside of his cheek, debating on whether or not to ask his next question. He rose, towering over her small frame. "Well then why did you end it?" His asked, his voice quiet and harsh. Part of him felt that he already knew the answer; the other telling him that there was more to her reasoning.

She looked away for the briefest of moments, her arms falling to her side in defeat, her fingers nervously beginning to play with the material of her skirt. She bit her lip, contemplating on whether or not the honest answer would help her cause.

"Control," she said simply, finally meeting his gaze. "My biggest fear was losing control. I was absolutely terrified. What we had was all so new and filled with uncharted territory for me. You were unlike any other man I'd ever been with, and that scared me. When I was with you, I completely forgot myself, my emotions. I felt vulnerable." Her voice had become small and weak, breaking ever so slightly. "I was worried that 'for survival' was only temporary; that there was an expiration date. I thought that you would eventually outgrow me. So, I thought that if I was in control, I couldn't get hurt," Claire felt her voice wavering, her face growing hot. "So, when I got the call about the reopening, I took my chance. I just wanted to know that I could handle things, and working here was familiar, there was nothing new about it. I met Tom, and he became the closest thing I've had to a friend since Zara. I saw coming back as a chance to rebuild what I had lost; something that had taken me ten years to accomplish was just destroyed in a day. I had to go back. I wanted to do better this time. I didn't want the same mistakes to be made."

Owen felt his brows knit together in concern, his free hand moving slowly to rest on her shoulder.

"But I was wrong. It was stupid of me to hire some of the people I did. I was foolish to think that gaining any more control of these animals was possible. I was naive to think that nothing would go wrong this time, and now, because I was too damn scared to turn down something that could profit the park and potentially make it more safe, these animals are dying. I've made a lot of mistakes, Owen," She paused, catching her shaky breath. "But the worst one I've made by far is losing you."

There was the sheen of tears welling in her eyes at her confession. Owen felt his own expression soften, finding himself both taken aback and touched by her words.

"Not a day went by where I didn't regret what I did to you."

Owen immediately pulled her into his chest, his uninjured arm wrapping around her protectively. The familiar feeling of having this woman in his embrace brought forth an overwhelming wave of emotions. Memories flooded his mind as her body melted into his. He began rubbing slow, up-and-down patterns on her back as he listened to her mumble into his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Owen."

He felt the threatening burn of tears in his own eyes, having to blink them back to prevent any from falling. He had been angry with her, so hurt, failing to realize that all this time she was feeling the same way; suffering just as much as he was. "I'm sorry, too."

Claire tightened her hold on him, her arms brushing against his wounded shoulder. He winced, drawing in a sharp intake of breath. She pulled back, her face etched in concern, then flashing to regret as she realized what she had done. She apologized profusely, hovering her hand above the sling awkwardly as if she weren't sure how to alleviate the discomfort.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it." Owen gave a weak laugh, reaching his other hand up to wipe the wayward tears from her pale face. An immense feeling of happiness swelled within him, numbing the dull ache in his heart, yet there was still an undertone of guilt edging on his joy. His smile faltered as he once again realized the pain he had caused her. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, taking a lock of her copper hair between his fingers. Owen had been so focused on his own emotions all this time that he failed to think for a moment on how she was handling everything. He had drawn his own conclusions based on what he thought he knew. "I'm an idiot."

She sniffed, giving a small smile. "Don't apologize for something you can't control," she teased, resting her hands on his chest, earning herself a glare of mock-offense from Owen. "And you already apologized."

"I know," He said, brushing the stray hair back. "I think I've said it way too many times today. So, twice. That's a record." They both smiled. "But I needed to say it again."

The meaning wasn't lost on Claire. She smiled again, her chin quivering slightly as she leaned in to rest her head against Owen's uninjured shoulder. They had both been so stubborn; neither one ever really willing to admit how they really felt about anything. They were both idiots, really. In reality, they had both been at some degree of fault; Owen had felt too much with his heart, abandoning any sense of logic. Claire, on the other hand, had done the opposite; she had ignored, even run away from her feelings, only listening to the science of reason. There really was so much for them to apologize for; too much. They would be there for days before they were finished listing off everything they felt guilty for. The rest was left unspoken, a fact that was perfectly fine with them both. Nothing needed to be said; the two apologetic words held so much subtext already.

He wrapped his arm around her again in a tight embrace, now choosing to ignore the discomfort from his injury. Any pain was worth ignoring as long as he was able to hold Claire Dearing.

A moment passed between them; a moment of beautiful, comfortable silence. In truth, neither of them could believe that any of this was real; it felt like they had stepped into a dream. Owen was scared that any minute he would wake up to find himself alone in his bed. He rested his chin on the top of her head, reveling in the feeling of closeness. In his mind, he knew that there was still one obstacle left in this. He knew that Claire was not one for office romances, she had told him of this fact after he had asked her out the first time all those years ago. "Listen," Owen took a deep breath. "If you don't think this is a good idea," he said, gesturing between them. He swallowed, the fear of what she would possibly say pooling in his stomach. "I'll respect that. I know you have that whole professionalism thing—"

"Oh, no," Claire said, cutting him off, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I'm done with that."

He heard her chuckle as he felt himself sigh in relief. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Thank God."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Carysma posted this lovely drawing of what Tom's desktop looked like in chapter 7. Look at how pretty it is!! http://40.media.tumblr.com/50f85bf1e4ca7378ed5f07e749778da6/tumblr_ns3wyk61gZ1rws2rto1_r1_500.jpg


	11. Four Interludes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a lot shorter than usual, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! :)
> 
> Just some key plot points. Have fun!

**Phone Call**

" _That was an idiotic stunt that you pulled. What's your excuse this time?"_  The voice over the phone was condescending and not at all pleased with the recent events.

"He… he was getting too close. He may have already figured out what we did to the GSD's." answered a self-righteous voice. "What would've we done then? All of our work would've gone down the drain." The person holding the phone was not happy that they were being blamed for something beyond their control.

" _My plan did not involve putting those ridiculous devices in unauthorized assets. We have given you a lot of incentive in working with us, don't make me regret my decision to bring you on."_  The speaker had a cold, electronically modified voice. _"Perhaps we are at a dilemma that may take extreme measures. We will need to remove all traces leading back to us. Start with the anyone who might have knowledge of the research."_

"As far as I know only three people know anything in depth about the project."

" _Am I correct in believing the head Paleo Vet is one of them?"_  The amused modified voice asked over the secure line. _"I think it would be useful if she met with an 'accident'. Perhaps make her disappear. I know there are many creatures at the park that are still considered hostile. She might need to be sent to treat one of them."_

"I see what you mean." The person quavered.

" _Then it would be a good time for the Geneticist to find himself falling_ 'ill'."

"Falling  _'ill'?"_

" _I know you don't need me to spell it out for you."_

"No… I understand."

" _Who else has information about the program? "_

"Oh, I… The parks new TED was recently given the entire file. But don't worry, I know just what to do."

* * *

**Nightmare**

"I don't care that she's got a contract, I want her gone!" Who has ever heard of basing a person's chances of keeping their job on a  _bloody_  sport?  _Three strikes!_  How about one huge strike and another near miss? Dr. Jacqueline F. Robinson was the worst human being Tom had ever had the misfortune enough to meet, and the fact that she hadn't already lost her job was mind-boggling.

The first day he met her, all she did was giggle at every little thing he said, as if he was the funniest man alive. Tom would have easily brushed that off if it hadn't been for her missing a vaccination on one of the new hatchlings. The poor thing died of a bad case of influenza.

Dr. Robinson was upset that the little creature had passed, but insisted that it was not her fault. She claimed she was confused about the process and that it was Tom's fault for not showing her how to do the procedure properly. It was a  _bleeding_  vaccination. How can any trained vet not know how to do that?!

"Tom, relax. You're not in any shape to fire anyone right now," Claire soothed as she fluffed the irate doctor's pillow. "Just get some sleep. You have a lot of work to get back too. And as of now, Dr. Robinson is the only one available to take on your responsibilities."

"No! She could mess up everything! Can't you see, Dearing? She most likely  _is_  the person ruining my work. She has access to the Genetic Silencing Devices. I know she's gone through most of my notes before I started locking them up, and she has access to all of the assets! You must fire her before anyone or anything else gets hurt."

"Why would Jackie destroy your work? If you hadn't noticed, this is her life's work as well."

"What has she done besides botch everything? She's a menace and an evil; I know it!" The vet started to sit up again. Only to stop and wince as he was gently guided back to the bed.

"I will talk with Jackie about her future employment. But I need you to get better," Claire said as she tucked the fevered man back in his hospital bed. "I mean it, I need you."

The vet obliged his friend and stopped his ranting. "Goodnight my Darling Dearing."

"Goodnight Tom." His friend said as she shut off the lights and closed the door.

Tom had very strange and troubled dreams. He dreamt that Wendy was alive and still small enough to hold. In the dream, she turned and began making kitten noises. He laughed and started to pet her. As his hand came away from her soft down, she began making the cries of an injured puppy. Tom looked at his hand that was bright red with her soft feathers, recoiling in horror as he watched the down morph into blood. He looked back at the crying Allosaur; Wendy was nothing but a rotting carcass. Tom dropped the body of his once pride and joy and started to weep.

When he looked up again, he saw Owen and Lizzie. Owen started telling Tom about his idea to train Lizzie to carry humans like a horse.

"No this is a bad idea!" Tom yelled as Owen put an overly large bridle on the T-Rex.

Lizzie roared and quickly swallowed Owen whole. Tom screamed. His leg was hurting. He looked down and saw Jackie digging into his cast. She smiled and told him that she was just following in his footsteps. She gave his broken leg a hard slap. "All fixed Doc!"

At that moment Lizzie vomited a laughing Owen back up. "Woo! Now, that was a rush!"

Tom tried to run to Owen's side but his broken leg collapsed under him.

Tom woke up screaming on the floor of his hospital room.

* * *

**Alone**

The pack is hurt. Sister is dying. This upsets Echo. This is all she thinks as she watches the last of her sisters struggle with each breath. Echo wants her sister to get well enough to protect her.

Echo is afraid. She doesn't like that her pack-sister is not looking out for her. She doesn't like that her Alpha has left at the first light of day. Who will save her from the others that come? They will make noise that hurts her head. They will snap and scratch at her where she is already hurt.

Then the other will come. The one that hurts her the most. The one that makes her cower behind her sister. If Echo is alone, he will make her hurt. He will touch her with that thing that stings. She needs her pack sister and she needs her Alpha. She needs to be protected.

As Echo is watching her sister breath, she  _cuk-cuk-cuks_  softly to the pack. No one answers. Echo feels so alone.

Echo hears the door open. She sniffs the air.

He is here!

* * *

**Liability**

The process of terminating an employee's contract at Jurassic World was perhaps the most tedious and frustratingly difficult task to pull off. The reason it was so taxing was the amount of work that had to go into it; with the airtight contracts, the reason for termination had to be damn good. It was a messy ordeal, usually involving a team of blood-sucking lawyers, and the high risk of the park losing more many than necessary.

This was exactly why Claire hated firing the employees of Jurassic World. There were some cases that had been easier than others. For instance, Geoffrey Stuart, an incompetent Triceratops handler, was gone in only a matter of days. Dr. Carmen, on the other hand, had one of the best attorney's Claire had ever known, and vacated Isla Nublar with a sizable severance package.

However, none of this was to say that the weak links were simply left alone. People were still laid off for breaking their contracts or exhibiting poor work performance. It was just that the entire situation was less than favorable, both because of the difficulty and arduous nature of the whole process.

The trick was getting proof that the contract was broken.

And as of now, Claire had little proof. Dr. Jackie Robinson was on thin ice, but if Claire remembered correctly, the vet believed herself to be a victim. The ones who thought they were wronged were the ones that fought the hardest.

At first, Claire had tried seeing from the vet's point of view, but after what had occurred in the last week, something had to be done.

"Dr. Robinson, I understand that you feel that you have been wronged," Claire said carefully from behind her desk, her hands folded neatly in front of her. "But you have been the focal point of two major incidents in the past week. This is serious, Jackie. I know you are one of the best in your field, but I'm afraid that we cannot afford to have the liability of a vet who makes careless mistakes that costs people their lives."

Jackie sniffed back her tears, but nodded her head. "I understand why you might think that, but I will go on record if I have to. Dr. Thales is a horrible man! He would belittle me and make me so miserable. When I was on my mandatory break, he yelled at me to get my kit. I didn't know that my kit was missing the tranq. He made me so upset." Large tears brimmed over her eyes and began falling down her cheek. "Then  _he_  sent me to get more carfentanil. It wasn't my idea to leave him alone. Now, I'm getting blamed for his mistake."

Claire pursed her lips.  _Shit._ She knew how this would sound to a lawyer. It didn't matter what the redhead knew to be true, or how badly she wanted to fire that vet's ass, all Jackie needed to do was to play the victim and start crying. She was so damn convincing, even  _Claire_  almost believed her.

Almost.

"When Dr. Thales is released from the hospital," Claire began, straightening in her chair. "I think it would be best for you to take a mandatory suspension until further notice."

Jackie sniffled again. "With pay?"

Claire felt her teeth grit in agitation, though she still maintained a cool exterior. "With pay." She offered the distressed woman a tissue.

"I guess I can deal with that," the vet gave a coy smile. "You have really been a friend to me in all of this. I have to say, without your encouragement, I don't think I could have made it as far as I have." She smiled again and took the proffered tissue. "You and Owen have been so nice. Owen is such a wonderful guy."

Claire bristled at Jackie's mention of Owen. She knew that the vet was only trying to ruffle her feathers, and to a point, she was succeeding. It was no secret that Jackie wasn't afraid of throwing herself at any man that so much as said "hello" to her. Claire gave a forced smile, careful not to give the other woman the satisfaction of inciting a reaction.

"I can see why you guys had your fling. He is so caring and warm. I think we might be getting serious." Jackie tried to gage the reaction of her supervisor. Claire could see the gleam of excitement in her eyes.

"Well, I wish you the best," Claire gave her best  _'bitch-please'_  smile before dismissing the woman out of her office. "I know you've had such  _terrible_  luck with men."


	12. Pack Dynamics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty! We're getting pretty close to the end! Enjoy this next chapter! :)

Owen sat next to Blue against the concrete wall of her holding pen, his hand resting lightly on her scaled neck. They had finally allowed her to roam freely about the room, no longer confined to the straps of the examination table. She had progressed dramatically over night, but she was still nowhere near to her normal state of vitality, her condition still very much critical.

Despite her health, she had grown much more responsive, now able to stay awake for hours at a time, even stand for a moment or two. She had not reacted well to seeing Owen in his own injured state, letting out a surprised squawk before chittering and clicking worriedly as she pulled him to the ground, forcing him to sit with her. She attempted preening him, snorting in frustration at his lack of cooperation. Raptors were pack animals; they work together to care for the wounded and sick.  _Alpha was hurt. Alpha needed help. Alpha was being stupid._

He had tried to gently push her away, but his attempts were in vain. As weak as she was, she was determined to make sure her alpha would heal properly and that he was out of harm's way. A protesting warble escaped her as Owen shifted, calming down only when his movements ceased.

It worried Owen how desperately Blue was tending to him; it was as if she were trying to show him that  _she_ was fine. He knew that it was quite the opposite though. Echo had been taken from the room the previous day in order to give Blue some time on her own to recuperate. In a way, doing that had almost worsened the beta's condition. She had frantically called for her pack-sister that morning, her cries dying out as she became wrought with exhaustion. It was only a temporary arrangement; Owen had made sure that the workers knew that separating pack-mates in times of trouble never ended well.

The last Owen had checked, Echo was sleeping peacefully in the shade next to Blue's door.

He turned his attention to the weak raptor beside him, a pained groan coming from her throat as she leaned her head against the wall. His hand moved to her arm in the hopes of inspecting the site of injection, though was stopped by Blue's angry hiss and light snap at his hand.

"Hey!" Owen said firmly, snapping his fingers at her. "You're okay. Everything's okay. Easy."

He didn't try to touch that spot again. It was obvious the pain was still ever present. Instead, he sat with her. Her eyes slowly began fluttering shut, her breathing steadily slowing. At this point, Blue still needed all of the rest she could get. In fact, they all did. After the recent events involving a drugged Tyrannosaurus Rex, it was essential that strength was recovered. That was what Dr. Thales had said; the hypocrite, the doctor was probably working on his projects. Owen wasn't protesting, the doctor's work was what was saving Blue's life. Still, rest right now was the most important thing for everyone.

The light sound of congested snoring caught his attention; he looked down at the sleeping figure below him. It was odd to see Blue in such a docile state; she hadn't behaved in such a way since she was a small hatchling. Truthfully, as strange and exhilarating as it felt being able to actually touch one of his raptors without any restraints, it was sad. Her allowance of his touch only reminded him that she had almost died. She was instantly transformed into the weak, frightened juvenile raptor that sought the comfort once provided by her parent and alpha.

It was the piercing shriek slicing through the air that jarred Owen from his relaxed state, startling Blue awake from her slumber. They both shot up from the ground. Blue started to pace around the cell, but quickly lost whatever strength the panic had brought. She collapsed to the ground, returning the terrified screams with her own.

_Echo._

Owen sprinted out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him as he ran down the concrete corridor. He came to the metal gates of the paddock, the pained squeals still echoing in the air. He stopped at the entrance, his heart racing. What was in the enclosure caused his heart to grow cold, a wave of anger rushing over him.

Echo was still in the paddock, along with the three juvenile raptors from earlier. The young ones surrounded her, a series of squawks and clicks being heard over the sound of the elder's wails. She hissed at them as they chased her, baring her teeth and claws in a defensive stance. The younger ones may have only wanted to play, but their version of fun was certainly different and much more painful than Echo's.

_Who the hell put them in there with her?_

Owen rushed to open the gates, not waiting even for them to fully lift before crawling under them. He nearly stops in his tracks finally seeing another soul in the enclosure with them; Bill Mundy was a distance away, shouting intermittent orders at the three young raptors. A seething rage filled Owen as he practically punched the button to open the second set of gates. "Hey!" He yelled, his blood boiling. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Bill barely turned around, growling in frustration as Echo continued hissing angrily at the juveniles.

Echo was having none of what the younger girls were throwing at her. They leapt up, each taking turns in pushing Echo this way and that, squealing in disturbing delight as the older one snapped and hissed. Caroline and Lucy both took turns jumping onto Echo's back, screeching as she threw them to the dirt. It was when Penny, the large one latched onto Echo's tail did the elder raptor do anything. She shrieked in pain, flinging her tail from side to side as the red raptor hung on. Echo turned, snapping her jaws angrily at the juvenile, this time actually succeeding in catching the youngling on the side. The juvenile screamed in surprise and pain, immediately letting go of Echo's tail.

Owen had just made it into the enclosure when he saw Bill angrily stomping his way toward Echo, the large cattle prod in his hands. "Hey!" Bill snapped, brandishing the weapon. Owen barely had any time before Bill took a jab at the raptor, throwing the staff aside. Echo convulsed, letting out another pained warble as she stumbled in place. Bill grabbed hold of the scarred raptor's injured snout, he squeezed his hand and gave a twist. Echo gave a long agonized whine before submitting to the ground.

That. Was. It.

Before even realizing what he was doing, Owen had sprinted to Bill, grabbing the man by the shoulders and shoving him roughly away from Echo. Bill fell to the ground, yelling in surprise as his back collided with the hard dirt. A string of curses could be heard from him as he rose slowly from the where he lay. Owen hadn't registered the exact moment his fist connected with Bill's jaw, the throbbing pain now in his left hand and Bill's staggering being his only evidence. "Stay away from my animals!" Owen snapped, watching the man once again rise to his full height, clutching his jaw.

In hindsight, Owen should have known the man would have retaliated. Bill's own fist slammed against Owen's cheek, knocking him to the dirt. He bit back a series of curse words as his injured shoulder hit the ground. The metallic taste of blood was on his tongue as he rose unsteadily. He bent over, spitting the red liquid from his mouth. "Is that all you got?"

Bill gave a menacing laugh, brandishing his fists in front of him. "Oh, there's more where that came from, mate."

Owen almost laughed himself despite the pain, but froze in place as he heard a low, guttural trill coming from behind Bill. "Actually, I think we should stop. Let's slowly make our way to the gate."

"Oi! You scared of my girls?"

"I'm serious! Put your hand down and walk slowly to the gate." Owen shook his head, taking small steps toward the safety of the gate.

Bill brought his fist back, ready to land another blow. Echo pounced in a sudden bout of strength, bringing Bill to the ground, his head in her jaws, her claws digging into his torso. She snarled and squealed as she began tearing into Bill, his screams muffled by the crunching of his own bones and tearing of his flesh.

"Echo! Stand down!" Owen called off the attacking raptor. As Echo obeyed and jumped off of her prey, Owen rushed to his side. It was too late. "Contain the raptors!" He called to the handlers that were idling in shock on the catwalks above. There weren't any trained marksmen pointing their shock rifles now that InGen was off the island.

Bill lay gurgling, choking past blood, gasping for air. His face was unrecognizable, skin flayed away from bone, and that was the  _least_  serious of his wounds. His intestines were beginning to spill out of the gaping tear Echo had left.

"Damnit! Call the code and get a medic!" Owen ordered as he put pressure on Bill's wound with his hand. Bill gasped and looked up at Owen with a confused and pained expression.

"Wha—" Mundy started as blood spilled from his mouth. He coughed, gasped, then sighed, his body going limp in a shuddering breath.

Owen had to look away, his senses being filled with the sights, sounds, and smells of gore. The commotion stopped and he returned his gaze to the raptor, her snout bathed in red. She chittered lightly at him, her threatening demeanor having diminished to one of calm curiosity.

He felt himself release a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding as he watched Echo relax once more. The three younger raptors cautiously stepped toward her, briefly glancing between their late alpha and his killer. They seemed to look at each other before following close behind Echo, their heads hanging low in submission as the handles began the hasty process of containment.

* * *

It hadn't been easy explaining the death of Bill Mundy to Claire. While she was glad that at least the raptors would no longer be subject to his cruel methods, she was angry and annoyed that this was yet another incident that she would have to deal with. The bridge of her nose was pinched between her two fingers as she sat, listening to the park owner berating her from the other end of the line. Owen watched as she nodded solemnly, listening as she answered slowly, "yes, sir," and "no, sir," at appropriate times.

She bristled in her chair, her voice growing exasperated. "Mr. Mundy's death was certainly tragic, and I will be sure to give the fault where it is due… Yes, Mr. Hale, but with all due respect, I did warn you. Although Mr. Mundy gave results, his methods were cruel and unorthodox, the animals were bound to turn on him at some point…Yes, the animals were engineered to be docile, but that in no way meant that they would not defend themselves or their companions if threatened..." Owen's ears perked at the use of his own words. "Yes, I do understand that he was a valuable asset to you and your company… Yes, we will arrange the compensation accordingly… Good day, Mr. Hale."

Owen didn't dare say anything as Claire hung up the phone with a groan of frustration. She let out a heavy sigh, running a tense hand over her face. She shot Owen with a stern glare. "You're lucky that Mr. Mundy fought back," She said, her voice curt. "Otherwise, you would have been out of a job by now."

Owen laughed nervously. "Sleeping with the boss has its advantages then," he joked in an effort to lighten the mood.

The woman was not amused, her icy glare burning into him. "Owen, this is serious."

He shrank slightly in his chair, nodding solemnly in understanding.

"Really Owen? We  _talked_  about this." Claire exhaled and closed her eyes. Her head hurt. What was she going to do with this man? Oh, she could strangle him! Of all the people in the world to fall in love with, she had to pick this idiot.

"I'm sorry. It was just instinct. You should've seen how he was treating her. I didn't even hit him that hard..." Owen rubbed his bruised knuckles as he added the last part quietly. His right hand was now green with fading contusions, while his left, less dominate hand was only a light shade of fuschia. "He sure could take a hit," he added.

"God, Owen. I thought… When I heard about the code grey in paddock eight, I thought—" Her voice caught. She took a breath and let it out slowly. "All I could think was that you were…" Again her voice stopped, her hand came up to cover her face as she turned away from Owen.

He instantly moved to her. "Hey, hey. I'm fine. I'm here."

Before he could try comforting her, she turned back to face him; her mouth pressed into a thin line. "I know you're fine  _now!_  Don't get me off topic! You are an idiot! I should put this in your file. Mr. Mundy was a disaster waiting to happen, but damnit Owen, did you have to be a part of it?"

"Claire, I am so sorry. I hated the guy, but you know I wouldn't wish getting mauled by raptors on anyone! If it helps, I'll take whatever consequences come my way." He was sincere about not wanting anyone to die the way Bill had, but he was not sorry he stopped Echo's torment. That was something he'd never be sorry for.

"There won't be any punishment at this time. Both of you were in an enclosure with level three theropods. There will be no more risks like that being taken." She was serious. This has been the highest rate of asset-related deaths in a week. "Now, I will meet with you later. I have arrangements to make for Mr. Mundy."

Owen nodded as he left Claire to notify the family.

* * *

 "Oh, bless you both!" Tom breathed as Claire handed him the container of (in vitro) chicken soup; Owen held out a plastic spoon for the ailing man to take. Tom popped the lid off before passing a thankful glance to the two standing in front of him. He opened his mouth to speak again, but was cut off by his own fit of violent coughs.

Claire's expression contorted with concern. "Tom, are you alright?" She reached out her arm, placing the back of her hand on Tom's damp forehead. "You're burning up!"

The coughing ceased, a wide, yet weak, smile stretching across his sickly face. "Oh, just a few minor setbacks. Fractures are a stress to the body; it's perfectly normal to experience a mild temperature in the days following an injury. Just the body trying to repair itself. Nothing to fret about!" He beamed brightly, or as bright as he could in his condition, before taking a spoonful of the hot soup.

Claire didn't seem convinced as she took her hand away, placing it gingerly at her side before passing a nervous glance to Owen.

Tom coughed again, covering his mouth with a shaky hand. "Now, Owen, my friend, did you bring my laptop?" He managed, dipping the spoon into the container.

Owen nodded, showcasing the black bag strapped to his uninjured shoulder. Tom had insisted that if he were going to sit in this hospital bed for another week or so, well then he would put that time to good use. He had requested his work laptop as a means to perhaps get a footing in the reverse process for the devices, hoping to make some sort of progress. He smiled again as Owen handed the silver computer over to him. Tom muttered another 'thank you'; his smile faltering slightly as he opened the laptop. A look of intense concentration washed over his tired face, his brows knitting together. He looked up in concern from the screen. "Owen, did you happen to grab my flash drive as well?"

Owen tilted his head in confusion. He had returned the one he borrowed, but he didn't recall seeing either drive in Tom's office. "No. Why?"

A sharp exhale escaped Tom as he fussed with the keyboard. "It seems as though the programs and files I need are no longer here." He winced slightly, bringing a hand to his head. "Check the bag, would you?"

"Not in here," Owen responded after searching every pocket.

Tom cursed under his breath as he continued typing key combination after key combination into the laptop. None of his codes were working. "Everything's gone. How can this happen? I don't understand it."

"Something wrong with the computer? Maybe just shitty technology?" Owen suggested, leaning against the wall.

"No, no. I keep all of my electronics in perfect condition. This had to be done by  _someone."_

"Who?" Claire asked, her interest piqued.

"I don't know. But I have a feeling it was whoever is behind the tampering with the Genetic Silencing Devices…" Tom's voice kept going, his train of thought being spoken out loud. "Without my files there is no way for me to save any more of the ill assets."

"What?!" Owen shouted. "You mean you can't keep curing Blue without your files?"

"Yes! That's  _exactly_  what I mean. Who would have taken my files? The only person… Jackie… Jackie is the one of the only people on this island who knows anything about how the devices work…"

"I thought you said she was too dumb for any of that?" Owen's brow furrowed slightly.

"I assumed so, yes. Hold on, I am going to try something," Tom typed a series of commands into the machine. His long fingers almost blurring. Finally, his face lit up in discovery. He pointed at the screen but soon grew frustrated at the blank expressions meeting his. "Don't you see? Oh, I always had my suspicions but this is it!" Tom gestured to his computer. He pointed to a line of code that might as well been Mandarin Chinese to Claire and Owen.

Claire was growing irritated herself. "What is it?"

"Her mistake! My proof it was her… well I am almost positive it's her…" Tom snapped out of his trance like state. "Owen! I need you to find Dr. Robinson. See if she has the other drive. And hurry!"

Owen gave a firm nod, his hand brushing against Claire's shoulder as he left the room.

Claire looked back at Tom, her brows knitting together in concern. "Do you have enough of your proof that Jackie is behind all of this?"

"It's enough for me."

* * *

 Owen hadn't realized how difficult it would be to find a specific Jurassic World employee that could be anywhere in the entire park. In the middle of the day, even. He had checked everywhere. Every paddock, every building; no luck. Each handler he came upon had denied seeing her, and would then proceed to complain that  _no_  vet had been by for the animals' weekly check up. It was frustrating to no end.

There was one area Owen had yet to check; one he had saved for last. The Hammond Creation Lab in the Innovation Center was his last resort. He nearly crashed through the automatic doors, pausing to catch his breath as he entered the darkened hallway. To further his annoyance, there wasn't a single soul in the building.  _"Shit."_ Owen cursed, placing his hands on his hips.

The sound of footsteps behind him caused him to nearly jump. He turned, relief flooding him as Dr. Wu descended the corridor, a briefcase in hand. He didn't necessarily like the guy, but there was the small chance that he could help. "Evenin', Dr. Wu," Owen greeted with a nod of his head, stopping the Chief Geneticist.

The other man gave a small, yet clearly forced smile. "Ah, yes. Good evening, Mr. Grady. How can I help you?"

"You wouldn't happen to know where Dr. Robinson is, would ya?"

The Geneticist's face contorted briefly to one of confusion, mouthing the name he'd just heard. He tilted his head a fraction, as if trying to recall who they were talking about. After another moment, his face morphed into one of recognition. "Oh! Dr. Robinson! Yes, of course. Short, blonde, very handsy?"

Owen nodded sternly.

Dr. Wu shrugged. "I haven't seen her all day."

A defeated sigh escaped Owen at the answer.

"So sorry, but if you'll excuse me, I'm turning in for the night."

"It's only seven-thirty."

"Yes, well," Dr. Wu shifted in agitation. "We stay longer when the park is  _actually_  open, Mr. Grady. Until then, we are permitted to leave before dark. Now, please, if you'll excuse me." He said, his voice filled with feigned politeness as he pushed past Owen.

In truth, Owen hadn't really been surprised at Dr. Wu's short attitude; after all the Geneticist had seen and done in his life, he really didn't try to make time for those he saw as lesser than himself. With a shake of his head, Owen pulled his phone from his pocket, now growing desperate. He dialed the control room in the hopes of reaching Lowery.

" _Hey man,"_  Lowery's voice came over the other line.  _"What's up?"_

"Lowery, is there any way to track an employee?"

" _Uh…"_  Lowery paused, a slight confusion in his voice.  _"Yeah! Well… Okay, not with an implant. But we can track their radio."_

"Get me the location of Dr. Robinson."

" _Ooooo-kay. Coordinates of Jackie Robinson comin' right up."_  There was a brief pause on the other line as Owen chewed at his lip nervously.  _"I thought she was already taking her suspension or ya know, 'paid vacation.' Whatever."_  He heard Lowery mutter.  _"Ah, here we go. She's… wait… It's in the Tank."_

"Come again?"

" _Her radio… It's in the Mosasaurus Tank."_

"Shit! Can you see when the last time her key card was used?"

" _Today at 5:02… At the… Mosasaur Tank. Why would she throw her radio in the tank? That doesn't make any…"_  the clicking and clacking of keys could be heard over the phone.  _"I'm pulling up the live video feed. Hmm, she's not in there."_  Again, more clacking.  _"Why are all the CCTV files deleted from the Tank video drive?"_

"Oh my God." Owen couldn't stop the heavy sigh that escaped him. "Lowery, is there a way for you to be notified if a key card is used again?"

" _Yeah, I mean I just put them on my to watch list and I get a ping for every swipe."_

"Great! Call me if anyone uses Dr. Robinson's card!"

He didn't wait for Lowery to respond before he hung up, shoving the phone into his pocket. This was not good. Jackie was nowhere to be found, presumably dead, and if he didn't find her in time and get that damn flash drive, then there was no hope for creating a reversal process for the device. The more he thought about it, the stranger it seemed. How had they not heard anything? He had visited with the Mosasaur handlers; neither of them had seen the vet all day. Was she really that elusive?

Then again, she had managed all this time to evade every bit of evidence that pointed to her. Perhaps she really did sneak into the tank unseen. But why would she do that? He had only known for a little over a week, but she hardly seemed like the kind of person to sacrifice herself in order not to be caught.

Her radio at the bottom of the Lagoon said otherwise.

He cursed again, his foot stomping the ground in frustration. It was when he looked up from the floor that he saw a figure in the distance, standing in front of the automatic doors.

"What the—" Owen said under his breath as he moved toward the figure. He heard a quiet  _whoosh_ of an object moving through the air behind him.

And then everything went black.


	13. Open Wounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, commenting, and leaving kudos! Enjoy! :)

Claire tapped her foot nervously on the tiled floor, her fingers knit together on her lap. The sky beyond the window had grown dark, the only source of light coming from the pale moon above. She anxiously chewed at her lip, ignoring the metallic taste of blood that came from her biting. Something was wrong. Owen had left nearly five hours ago, but they hadn't heard from him in the last two. She knew it was a large island, but finding a specific person shouldn't have taken as long as it was. Part of her was taking comfort in the fact that Owen could easily handle himself in any situation. That part, however, was almost completely smothered by another; the one that was fearful that a hiccup in their plan had ruined everything and that Owen was now in some sort of peril. What if something happened to him? What if it was already too late? What if he—

"Claire? Would you please calm down? I'm sure everything is fine," Tom almost snapped. It was clear that the pain, along with the post-fracture fever, was certainly getting to him. He groaned before letting out another series of violent coughs. Beads of sweat began trickling down his gaunt face, the color having drained from his skin.

She stopped her fidgeting, or tried as best she could, in her chair, closing her eyes and slowly counting to ten. She would  _not_  panic. Her hands gripped the armrests, her knuckles turning a ghostly shade of white at the pressure.  _Slow, deep breaths. That's the key._ She opened her eyes after a moment, her nerves still gnawing away at her insides. How could she calm down when there was the possibility that Owen was in trouble?

Her gaze turned to Tom, who was still tinkering with the laptop, intermittent curses stringing from his mouth as he tried again and again (and failed) to access his program. An annoyed sigh escaped him as he partially closed the laptop, burying his head in his clammy hands. He suddenly doubled over, a sharp, stabbing pain in his stomach. He hacked, groaning as the painful coughs tore through him.

Claire instantly moved to her friend's side, placing a firm hand on his back as she pulled him into an upright position.

"Agh! Where the devil is he?!" Tom croaked out between breaths.

Her worried expression was both for Tom's health  _and_  Owen's safety. She didn't know how to respond, choosing only to place the sickly man against the white pillow. She took the laptop from his bed, placing it gingerly on the side table.

"Can I get anything for you?" Claire asked her ailing friend. She was desperate to do something; anything but sit here and worry.

"Yes, there might be a chance that my desktop in my office has some of the data I require. I doubt it. I'm almost positive I moved all information to my laptop, because I knew someone was messing with it." He sighed and rubbed his aching head. "I just can't quite remember if I did or not."

Tom gave Claire his ridiculously long password. She left right away. Perhaps Owen had thought something similar. He could be in Tom's office as well searching for anything that might save Blue. She tried to call him for what seemed like the hundredth time that evening. The ringing seemed to never end before it went to voicemail.

"God damnit, Owen! If you're making me worry over nothing, I will kill you... Please be okay." She left yet another message.

Tom's office was dark. She stepped in, flipping the light switch, the room lighting up instantly. The place was a mess; papers were strewn haphazardly about the room, and his computer tower was opened and gutted.

"Shit!" she cursed as she stepped cautiously over broken glass. There was nothing salvageable. Everything was ruined save a few silver canisters on the shelf. Even his amazingly organized library, the one she most admired about his office, was destroyed.

The loud chirping from her phone startled her. She hastily reached into her purse, yanking the phone out as she answered without even looking at the ID. "Owen!?"

" _Hey, uh, Claire?"_  Lowery's voice came over the other line. Claire had to fight off the disappointed and irritated sigh that threatened to escape.  _"Yeah, quick question."_

"What is it?"

" _Well, Owen called a little bit ago—like, I don't know, a couple hours maybe?"_  His voice sounded nervous.  _"Anyway, he was asking for me to let him know if Dr. Robinson's key card was used again—it hasn't or anything but I just wanted to let him know that I was heading home for the night and I have like way too much overtime and I can't stay any longer_. _So, I've been trying to get a hold of him, but he hasn't been answering. Is he with you?"_

"No—no! He isn't." She answered, her stammering voice betraying her. For some reason, hearing that Owen was also not answering other's calls was not comforting to her. Where was he? There had to be some way to find him. Then it hit her. "Hey, before you leave can you tell me if Owen's card has been used?"

" _Wow! Why didn't I think of that? Let's see..."_ Lowrey's voice was accompanied by the click clack of his keyboard. _"Okay one use about forty minutes ago in … Paddock nine. Why is Owen staying so late with Lizzie? Is he doing like night time enrichment because I know for a fact that Lizzie sleeps through the night. Only really loud noises will wake her. And she is super grumpy when she is doesn't get her beauty sleep—."_

Claire hung up the phone before he could finish. She grabbed a silver canister labeled  _det746_ , before running out the door to Paddock Nine.

* * *

 It was dark. So unbelievably dark.

That was the first thing Owen noticed, the second being the throbbing pain in the back of his head. He tried to move, but with suppressed panic, he found that he couldn't. Ropes were tied around his body, a rigid pole parallel against his back. He nearly cried out in pain as he moved again, the ropes pulling against his recently dislocated shoulder. As he became more conscious, he realized that he was sitting on a slab of concrete, surrounded by trees, or what he could see in the pitch black night. The faint chirps and calls of jungle creatures reached his ears.

He knew exactly where he was.

_Oh, how... poetic._

The whispering of voices in the air stirred him slightly. He strained, listening to see if he could identify any of them. There were three male ones, and one distinct female voice. He stilled, hearing the sound of crunching leaves growing closer.

He suddenly felt a presence next to him. "Wakey, wakey Sunshine!" The female voice cooed, a hand coming up to pat him not-so-gently on the cheek. He cringed, his eyes only now beginning to adjust to the darkness, the few lights in the enclosure aiding minimally in his ability to see. "Oh, I'm sorry! Did I hurt you? Whoops!" The figure crouched in front of him, her face inches from his.

_Jackie. Of course._

Owen felt his jaw clench, his teeth gritting together. "Oh, fucky—"

"Uh-uh! Language!" She smirked, her hands playing with the ropes across his chest. "Be nice, Owen."

There were many question running through Owen's mind at the exact moment. Too many to count. The last thing he remembered was seeing her at the end of the hall in the creation lab, and then he got knocked out by some asshole. As far as Owen was concerned, Jackie Robinson had a lot of explaining to do. "So you faked your death?" Really, it had been such a cliched, and arguably clever move.

"Duh! Come on, Owen. You really think I'd just jump into the tank? Really?"

"Your radio was in there."

"I threw it in." She shrugged as if the answer was obvious. "You know, to keep you on your toes!"

He felt angry again. Angry and confused. "Why the hell did are you doing this?"

Her eyes gleamed. "Owen, why does anyone do horrible things?"

At his bewildered stare, she sighed. Once again, her face lit up in disturbed delight.

"Money, Honey!"

* * *

 The room was spinning. There was a ringing in Tom's ears. It wouldn't go away. His vision blurred, a tight, twisting sensation forming in his stomach. He doubled over, retching over the side of the bed, coughing and hacking as the contents of his stomach splattered on the tile. There was an overwhelming sense of dizziness that swept over him; he tried to rise from the mattress, pushing the blankets off of his burning body. The ringing grew louder, causing him to wince in pain.

His body immediately went rigid, then began violently convulsing. He fell to the floor, his body thrashing as he landed.

As quickly as it started, it was over. For a moment, he lost consciousness. He blinked, his eyes roaming around the room as if in a daze. He was still wrought with grogginess, his head throbbing. What was he doing on the floor? Where was he? Tom took in his surroundings. He was in a hospital.  _Yes, I have a broken leg._ he thought as he looked at his throbbing leg.  _My_ …  _My research is gone._ He thought to himself again.  _But why am I on the floor_? It wasn't making any sense! The the clouds obscuring his mind began to fade a sharp realization struck him. He was on the floor because had a seizure.

His heart turned to ice, his very blood growing alarmingly cold. He opened his mouth to scream, to call out for the doctor, but found he could not speak a single word. His chest tightened as he felt his heart rate increase.

Frantically, he began running his hands over the major arteries. He found no small lump or incision. At first he felt some relief, but with the painful throbbing of his leg, he discerned a horrible realization.

His dream, his leg, his Genetic Silence Device...

_Fuck!_

Tom pulled himself along the ground, grunting in pain, stars blurring his vision. He reached for his medkit that still sat where some kind soul left it. The bag held a variety of instruments that he could use for this purpose.

Without much thought, Tom pulled out a heavy duty pair of scissors and began cutting open his cast.

* * *

 Owen felt the rope tightening, further constricting any small movement. His cold glare burned into Jackie's side, though she made no hint at being bothered. She smiled. "Just making sure you're nice and secure! Don't want you getting away." She gave a firm smack to his shoulder, chuckling lightly at his pained groan. "Oh, sweetie, it's alright. Don't be such a baby."

He could feel his temper rising within him, the boiling anger nearly spilling over. "You mind telling me  _why_  you're doing this?"

"I told you! Money!" She laughed again, not swayed by the fury in his eyes. "Oh fine, you're no fun. I guess I can tell you. Might as well." She crouched in front of him again, her hands resting lightly on her knees. "I'm gonna let you in on a little secret," She said, scooting closer, her voice lowering. "I hate working here." She could hardly contain her laughter at his unamused expression. "I know, big surprise, huh? Well, I didn't always hate it, and I didn't always hate Dr. Thales, but then he started being a real dick to me, ya know? Always telling me I was wrong, always pointing out my mistakes. To be honest, it was a little degrading. And annoying. Now, I know what you're thinking. Why do all this because I hate some stupid son of a bitch? Well, here's another thing. I've always been under appreciated here. Everyone is always talking about how amazing Dr. Thales is, or what miracle he'll perform next. It was just sickening. I also come to find out that he makes more money than me! Can you believe it?"

Owen fought the urge to roll his eyes. He bit back the words at the tip of his tongue. ' _Well he's your boss, so..._ ' But being at the mercy of this crazy woman was enough to prevent anything from coming out.

"So I thought, what better way to punish him and everyone at Jurassic World than attack what makes them valuable? The first one was just for fun, though. Then, this brilliant man offered me a job; I get rid of the animals, I get money. See, he works for this company—"

She didn't have to elaborate. Owen felt as if he already knew. "Let me guess," he sighed. "InGen?"

Jackie gave him a stern glare at the interruption. "Right, but please, Owen," she growled, shoving his arm. "Let me finish. Anyway, this company—InGen, if you really wanna get technical—wants Jurassic World to go out of business, and no dinosaurs equals no money. Basically puts them in a sinkhole. And it kills two birds with one stone; Jurassic World gets what it deserves, and Dr. Thales 'perfectly safe' life's work gets thrown down the drain. All I had to do was get this baby," she pulled something from her pocket; a small flash drive. _Tom's_  flash drive. She twirled it in her hand, dangling it in front of him. "To my employer. He gets all the info and access to the genes, I get paid. He can control how the devices work. He can change an asset's immune system to whatever he wants. It's just a way to prove that these animals can't survive in captivity. They need freedom, leadership, and the right to kill."

"Like for the military?"

"Like for the military. See? You've got it!" She ruffled his hair, a sly smirk tugging at her lips.

Owen felt his blood turn cold. In truth he wasn't entirely surprised that this was all InGen's doing. He just had no idea they were still set on the idea of weaponized dinosaurs for war. It was idiotic, especially after what had happened with the Indominus. Suddenly, he felt confused. He hadn't expected her to actually tell him any of her evil plan. What kind of villain was she? "Wait, why are you telling me this?"

She laughed again. "Well, I mean, you're gonna die anyway. So no harm done! We've already got Tom taken care of, and we were thorough this time. As you remember, the drugged T-Rex didn't really work out," she gestured to his shoulder. "Now there's just you and your little girlfriend! Technically, Little miss Redhead doesn't know too much about Tom's work, but I really can't stand the slut," Her brows furrowed, her face contorting to a troubled expression. "It's such a shame you have to die, though. You're so hot. What a waste."

* * *

 The wind roared in Claire's ears as she sprinted across the empty main street, her feet carrying her as fast as they could. The park was eerily quiet at night time, especially without any visitors. The abandoned road sent a chill down Claire's back; but she kept running, her hands gripping the silver canister tightly. Her footsteps echoed around her, beads of sweat forming all over her body.

She finally reached the paddock, though not allowing herself a moment of rest. She swiped the key card and hastily pushed numbers into the pad. She tried one of the metal doors to the paddock, growling in frustration as it stayed shut. She looked around frantically, her eyes landing on the stairs to the observation deck.

The sound of voices on the level above her caused her to stop, the roar of the blood rushing to her ears hindering her perception of sound. She froze, her hand gripping the metal railing. Slowly, she crawled up the staircase, her eyes searching for the source of the noise. She finally reached the top, the footsteps above causing her heart rate to increase. Her eyes scanned the room; there was still another set of stairs to climb.

A tense silence fell over her as she crouched to the ground, quieting her steps as she slowly advanced to the row of cabinets at the wall. She could see two strange men she had never met before out of the corner of her eye, standing with their backs to her. They were not employees. They looked like the militant soldiers InGen had brought in during the tragedy. A heavy breath escaped her as her back connected to the wall, her body blocked by the row of storage lockers.

How was she supposed to get past those guards?

She didn't scream as she felt a strong hand grip her arm tightly, yanking her from her hiding place.

"What have we here?" The man said, his voice sinister. "Oh, hello pretty!"

She struggled against his hold, his grip only tightening at her movement. "No, no! You're not going anywhere." The other said, chuckling.

Claire rolled her eyes. She did  _not_  have time for this. With a swift movement, her heeled foot connected with the other man's shin. He howled in pain, clutching his leg as he fell to the ground. She brought a hand to the arm coiling around her throat, lowering the other fist to strike the man, holding her captive, in the groin. He doubled over, his arm slackening at the impact. She swung her elbow, the point of her arm colliding with the man's jaw, knocking him unconscious and allowing her a moment to scramble free. She breathed heavily, though not letting her guard down.

The second man rose again, seething with anger. He came at her, his fists ready.

She dodged his swing, ducking in time as she watched him stumble. He turned around to face her again, this time his fist met her chin. She saw stars and heard the asshole laugh. Anger, adrenaline, and five years of self defense classes gave her strength for what she was about to do. Her own fist smacked him in the temple in a swift sideswipe. He shook his head, groaning in pain and anger.

Claire thanked God she was wearing a pantsuit that day, before swinging her leg high to land a shattering final kick to the jaw.

She stood there as both men lay unconscious on the floor.

A huff escaped her as she straightened her top, her hands reaching up to adjust her hair ever so slightly. It was pointless now, beyond repair, but she could at least try.

She looked ahead, the second set of stairs just feet away, and after that, would be the employee observation deck. She moved swiftly, yet quietly, running on the very tips of her toes. The stairs creaked lightly under her, threatening to give away her position to any potential threats. She paused, craning her neck to listen for any intruding voices. The eerie silence of the room was almost deafening, only adding to the roar of her own heartbeat in her ears.

After what seemed an eternity, she reached the top, immediately lowering herself to the ground in a defensive crouch. She inched along the floor, listening intently. Ahead of her, she saw the control console at the base of the window, illuminating the room in a hazy blue light. There was a man there, bracing both hands on the console.

She searched the room, looking for anything that could be used as a weapon. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of one of Jurassic World's security guards motionless on the floor. Silently, she moved across the cold tile, her hands shaking beneath her. The voice over the man's radio startled her.  _"Get the gun ready,"_  the voice ordered.  _"Wait for the command."_ The man reached beside him, retrieving a red flare gun from it's case. Claire suppressed a gasp. The light sigh that escaped her was silent as she gripped the cold metal of the silver canister that had miraculously survived her previous encounter.

The intruding man made for the door to the catwalks, flares ready.

They were going to wake the T-Rex.

A feeling of anger and strength overwhelmed her. She rose, rushing to the man in front of her, bringing the blunt end of the canister up above her head, ready to land the first and final blow.

* * *

 "Okay!" Jackie said, her voice sickeningly sweet, as she clapped her hands together. "Well, we're gonna go! You have fun with our friend, alright?" She brought her hand to rest on Owen's cheek, caressing his stubbled face. "I'm sorry, bud," she said with a mockingly sad, insincere laugh. "I really am."

There was a startlingly loud  _buzz_ from the speakers, the clicking and clanking of locks and bolts moving in place accompanying the grating sound. The people all stilled, the noise causing a silence to come over them.

A red light formed from the top of the observation deck, whizzing through the air in a quiet hiss, black smoke trailing close behind. The red flare soared, glowing in the darkened sky. The light flickered, the flame sputtering to a stop as it landed with a bounce at Owen's feet.


	14. Survival

Jackie shot up from the ground, her expression distorting into one of rage. "What the hell? I didn't give the signal yet!" She cursed, gripping at the radio strapped to her shirt. "Johnson! What gives?" There was no answer. She turned to the three men around her, their blank expressions inciting a fury induced groan. "I'm gonna kick his ass…" She muttered as she spun around on her heel, stomping to the service door.

It wouldn't budge.

"What the—" Her anger almost melted into fear as she reached once again for the radio. "Johnson! Unlock the doors!"

Once again, there was no response.

Her hands started to shake as she gripped the door handle, hopelessly turning it in an attempt to break the door down. It was no use. The door was locked.

They were all trapped.

Owen felt almost satisfied at the turn of events, but the feeling vanished as a low rumbling surrounded them, shaking their souls to the core. An agitated, disgruntled roar filled the air.

_Someone_  wasn't happy.

They wanted to wake up Lizzie; they certainly got their wish. The ground shook under the slow footsteps of the large beast as it neared the group. The InGen soldiers raised their guns, frantically searching through the darkness. Another step caused the ground to quake, a puddle rippling in an impact tremor.

Owen closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Now was not the time to panic. He stilled, remaining calm as ever. The thundering steps quickened in pace, a low bellow accompanying the movement. Owen shot a stern glare to the men standing as they began chattering nervously. "Hey! Tell your boys to cool it!" He snapped quietly to Jackie through gritted teeth. His resolve was slipping, his body tensing as the Tyrannosaur rumbling reverberated within him.

For the first time, it seemed that Jackie was the only other one there with any sense at all. She instantly dropped to the ground, crouching low and against the wall. She moved with hesitance to the dark of the trees, now behind Owen. She quietly ordered her men to do the same. A blanket of tense silence fell over them, the rumbling and footsteps ceasing for a moment.

The Tyrannosaur let out another half-hearted bellow, before moving closer, her feet crashing against the ground.

She was close.

So close, in fact, her shape could almost be made out against the dark foliage. She moved her head, sniffing the air experimentally. Her eyes fell where the flare had landed, her head tilting as she let out another guttural sound.

Owen prayed silently that these men wouldn't do anything stupid.

It was too late.

Lizzie had advanced on them, her curiosity having been piqued at the strange non-goat sounds coming from her normal eating place.

The men scrambled where they sat, raising their guns once again, the clicking of their weapons echoing in the still air.

Owen didn't dare speak, knowing that any more sound would potentially provoke unwanted attention. He wanted to scream at them, berate them for being complete idiots. How could these guys, supposedly from InGen, not have any idea how to act around a twenty-five year old Tyrannosaurus Rex? He vigorously shook his head at them, hoping to God they weren't getting ready to do what he thought they were going to do.

The sound of their rifles cocking had not gone unnoticed. The T-Rex immediately turned her gaze to them, now merely fifty feet away. She tilted her head again, a low sound rippling through her throat. She stopped, exhaling and inhaling against the wind. Her eyes flashed, having sensed an unwelcome presence in her home. An ungodly, angry roar shook the very enclosure. She stomped her feet, her body lowering in a territorial stance.

She charged.

In their pure terror, the soldiers began firing their rifles, the gunshots ringing through the air. The few bullets that grazed her scaled skin did not stop the dinosaur. She roared again in infuriation. Any attempts made at fighting were in vain. She trampled into them, a large foot crushing one to the ground, the sickening crunch of bones and splatter of viscera muffled by the soldiers' screams. Her swinging tail crashed into the second man, sending him flying into the base of a tree, his body contorting into an odd angle. The final man cried in horror as she plucked him from the ground in her large jaws, biting down before tossing his limp body aside.

Owen tensed as she stopped once again to smell the air, her head slowly turning to where he was bound on the goat-lift. He could barely feel Jackie's hand gripping his arm as he prayed silently to whatever higher-power he could think of for help.

There was a light clicking sound as a silver blur flew through the air, landing at the feet of the creature. The object began beeping, a light flashing in time with the frantic noises. A fine mist billowed from the top of the canister, bringing a smell with it so foul that Owen had to bite back the bile rising in his throat.

The therizinosaur stench filled the air around them, blanketing them in an odorous cloud. He couldn't fight back the cough that escaped him as the smell filled his lungs. The scent did not sit well with the large theropod either; she snorted, stepping back in surprise as it filled her nostrils. She shook her whole body, an agitated groan echoing in the night air.

It was too much for her. She lumbered off, huffing the entire way.

Amidst his own fit of coughing, Owen glanced back at Jackie, who was nearly choking. "Untie me now!" He managed. "Or we both die!"

She made no argument, her hands fumbling with a knife as she cut away the ropes. The odorous stench started to fade. They had to move quickly or else the resident Tyrannosaur would be back with a vengeance.

He rose unsteadily as he felt the bonds pool around him. Wincing slightly at the pain, he took a step, beckoning her to follow with his uninjured arm. They moved silently, still hearing the rumbling of the dinosaur in the trees. He brought his finger to his lips, signaling for the blonde to remain calm and quiet. They reached the service door. He gripped the handle, shaking it when the door wouldn't open.

The quiet clicking of locks, and a sharp buzz rang through the air. The door opened.

They both rushed in, slamming the door shut. Owen stumbled, suddenly feeling excessively weak. Two hands caught him by the arm. He looked up, relief flooding him at the sight of a certain red-haired woman. He felt himself laugh in spite of his frazzled state. "You're getting pretty good at this rescuing stuff."

Claire's mouth twitched upward into a smile. "It helps when I have such a convincing damsel in distress."

The smart remark made him want to just grab her and kiss her where she stood, both as a thank you and a way to prove that he was most certainly _not_  a 'damsel in distress.' He didn't get far before they heard sniffling beside them. Owen bit back the urge to scream in frustration as they both turned to face an emotional Jackie.

"Oh, thank you so much!" She exclaimed, wiping the tears from her eyes. At their lack of response or sympathy, her crocodile tears vanished. She sighed. "No, really. Thanks. But," She paused, pulling a pistol from behind her. "I'm gonna need you guys to go upstairs, okay?"

* * *

 Not willing to disagree with a woman holding a firearm, they went to the observatory deck, and walked outside to the catwalks above, Jackie's gun pointed to their backs the entire way. There was a plan to this madness, they were sure.

She stopped them at the very center, above the spot where the InGen soldiers had died not minutes before. Jackie huffed. "You know, this is the hard way. It's less fun for me."

The two only met her statement with defiant silence.

The blonde rolled her eyes. "Alright. You know what? I'll be nice. Say your goodbyes now before I blow both your brains out."

The blunt expression caused Claire's resolve to falter for a split second. She turned to Owen, her face impassive, determined not to show any fear. Owen reached out and took her hand gently in his own. He looked down for a moment, before bringing his eyes to meet hers. His calloused thumb ran over her knuckles in a comforting motion, his hand squeezing hers lightly. They both leaned forward, resting their foreheads together.

"Ugh, okay, come on. We don't have all night." Jackie gagged behind them.

Owen cracked a smile, leaning away. "You know I'm not gonna let it end like this, right?" He breathed to Claire, his voice lower than even a whisper.

Claire barely nodded, her eyes locked on his. He was about to do something stupid and brave. She knew this was their only chance, but she couldn't help the dread that came rising from her gut. The thought of losing him was too much to bear. Up until this point, she had held a courageous front, but now… Now she was truly scared. Scared enough not to maintain her cool exterior. She hoped, wished,  _prayed_  that Owen's recklessness would pay off somehow, that it would save them.

Before either of them could react, Owen dropped Claire's hand, charging for Jackie. A loud gunshot rang through the air. Owen fell to the ground, gripping his already injured arm in agony. Claire bit back a scream as she watched the handler writhe in pain. She clenched her fists, her eyes moving to the woman with the gun, but the glint of a small object on the metal grating caught Claire's attention. She looked closer. In her sheer panic, Jackie had fired the gun, while also dropping something vitally important to the ground.

_Tom's flash drive._

"Really, Owen? You're gonna try that shit?" Jackie laughed, flexing her hand to get the feeling back. "I didn't think you were that stupid, but I guess you proved me wrong!"

He gripped his arm, the bullet having only grazed the skin, though still tearing the flesh from the impact. Blood poured from the wound, covering his hand. The blind rage pierced through him, white hot anger bubbling in his chest. "You shot me!" He managed through his pained groans.

"And now you get to watch me shoot your girlfriend!" Jackie snapped, swinging around, facing the redhead. Claire was crouched next to her, reaching for the flash drive with shaky hands. "Oh, I don't think so. I need that." Jackie cocked the gun, before looking back at Owen. "Get one last look at her pretty face, Grady, cause it's about to be—"

Claire lept from the ground, her fist pulled back. Before Jackie could finish her sentence, Claire punched the annoying blonde vet's shocked face in a hard smack. Jackie shrieked in surprise, the gun falling from her hands. She stumbled back, a hand reaching up to cradle her aching mouth. She flailed in her overdramatic display, her waist catching at the railing. A scream echoed in the air as she tumbled over it and into the enclosure below.

Without thinking, Owen reached out to grab her hand, cringing in pain as she caught he outreached arm, desperately holding on.

He cursed under his breath as she gripped his arm, her body dangling over the T-Rex Kingdom. She cried, screaming for them to pull her up. Owen started to slip, Jackie's struggling pulling them both to the pit. Claire didn't hesitate as she gripped Owen's side, using all of her strength to keep him in place.

"Jackie, for the love of God, stop screaming!" Owen spat, trying to pull her up. "And stop moving!" He grit his teeth as she twisted his arm, her screams reverberating in the dark.

"Please, please, please just pull me up!" She wailed, still thrashing violently.

A guttural trill sounded from within the trees, though Jackie didn't seem to notice as she continued her crying. The catwalk began to shake with each thump as something large moved closer, the tremors sending a chill down Claire's spine.

* * *

 The cast was easily removed. Swollen, discoloured skin greeted Tom as he stared at the blackened spot on his upper calf.

"Sloppy work as always, Dr. Robinson," he wheezed. The spot where his very own Genetic Silencing Device was implanted just under the skin covering his soleus was miraculously nowhere near the tibial artery.  _Praise God!_ Tom still had no idea how the idiot doctor got her position at Jurassic World. He vaguely recalled that she had some very impressive references. She came highly recommended from someone within the genetics lab; if only his brain would remember who. Obviously whoever it was, was the one behind this mess.

Speaking of messes, Tom was positive that the colour of the skin surrounding the small lump was never meant to be seen on human flesh. "Well," he paused looking at the gangrenous flesh radiating from pea sized bulge, "Perhaps a badass tattoo." He chuckled before reminding himself of the job at hand.

"Have I called a doctor yet?" he asked no one in particular. He couldn't remember; his brain was still bruised from his earlier tumble. He distinctly remembered  _wanting_ to call the doctor. But did he? He really didn't have time for this.

"I really don't have time for this," He repeated his own jumbled thoughts. He would call again, or for the first time, after the GSD was removed.

The injection site was not fully healed. Tom didn't have the genetically modified endocrine system that the GMO Assets' had.

Gently he put pressure on the site. He laughed to himself as he thought about popping a zit full of death itself. The GSD wouldn't budge. He reached for a scalpel and an alcohol swab, gingerly cleaning the wound before slicing into the rotting skin. Out flowed rancid smelling pus. Tom gagged holding in his own nausea; no vomiting until he was safe. Under the putrid discharge was an extremely familiar GSD; The very one he removed from his little Wendy after her death.

Tom's face scrunched in remembrance of his favorite little pseudo theropod. His lip trembled and he wiped salty tears from his eyes. Damn, he couldn't control his damn emotions. Why'd he have to get the fucking concussion in the first place?

Under the GSD was more mess. Most of his muscle was ruined. Already, Tom was plotting his treatment. Would he try maggots? He always wondered what they would feel like cleaning out his dead tissue. Or perhaps he would forgo that unpleasant experience and remove the leg from the knee down. Tom's thoughts were consumed with images of walking on a pirate ship with a peg leg.

Where was that damned doctor? He did call a doctor didn't he? He couldn't quite recall. Damn this concussion!

* * *

 Owen pulled again with every ounce of strength, grunting in frustration. Claire grabbed a hold of his waist, helping as much as she could, her heels digging down into the grated metal. With Jackie's flailing and Owen's injured state, they just weren't strong enough to heave the thrashing vet back up the metallic footbridge. If Jackie would only calm down, they might have a chance.

There was a rustling of foliage as the Tyrannosaur emerged from the trees, shaking her head in agitation. She looked up, a sliver of movement in the distance above her. She rumbled, low and gruff, taking quick steps toward the commotion.

Jackie stilled momentarily as she felt the hot breath on her ankles, a large snout nudging her boots as it inhaled and exhaled the air around her.

"Jackie!" Owen grunted. "Stay calm, just stay still. We've got you. We'll get you up. Do me a favor, just don't look down!"

The vet let out a whimper as the Tyrannosaur pushed her nose roughly against Jackie's legs; the large teeth brushing against her calf, sending terror through Jackie's spine. The moisture from the humid breath made her legs feel sticky as the T-Rex inspected her strange intruder.

Jackie made the mistake of looking below her. At first she whimpered and let out a terrorized whine. The large beast beneath her took Jackie's pant leg into her mouth and gave curious tug.

"No, no, no, no please, God no!" she begged, her voice distorted in terror. She looked up and locked eyes with Owen, real tears streaming down her face. She gripped his forearm tighter, her nails digging into his skin.

Jackie's garment was torn and released as the T-Rex stepped back to take in the curiosity in front of it. "Oh, thank you, thank you, Oh God, thank you. Owen please pull me up!" She shouted.

"Shut up, shut up!" Owen urgently whispered.

"You shut up and pull me up!" She demanded. "I am so sorry, Please just pull me u—" she cut herself off as she felt the humid breath back against her bare great jaws took a hold of her entire left foot. She let out a hysterical scream as she felt large steak knife like teeth gently pierce her skin. She involuntarily thrashed, kicking her right foot out. A pained grunt came from the dinosaur's throat as a work boot came into contact with a sensitive nose. The Tyrannosaur rumbled, its eyes flashing in anger.

In a split-second, its mouth opened, taking the rest of the dangling Jackie between its teeth. Screaming resounded in the air as the vet helplessly tried to escape her certain demize. The cries gurgled then morphed into a strange wheezing rasp as the dinosaur's jaws snapped down on her midsection. Owen released the lax hands of the now expired woman.

The T-Rex adjusted its grip on the lifeless vet, shaking its head violently from side to side before discarding the limp corpse behind it.

Claire scrambled to pull Owen back, her mind desperately trying to erase what she had just witnessed. She looked to the man in her arms, her eyes blown wide. He sat up with her, clutching his chest with a shaky hand.

She straightened, unsteadily pulling herself together before reaching over and plucking the discarded flash drive from the metal grating. "Come on," she said, rising to unsteady feet. "Let's get this to Tom, and let's get you to a doctor."

* * *

 After a few stitches and a tetanus shot for the minor tear in the skin (and a few words with the authorities), Owen was only left with a few scrapes and bruises. The on-call doctor had taken care of what the bullet had made, but left the small injuries to be dealt with later. Tom had after all just performed self-surgery on his already damaged leg, and the doctor wasn't about to lose a patient over something he hadn't overseen.

That left Owen in Claire's (arguably rough) hands.

"No! Dammit, Claire!" Owen hissed as the redhead came at him with an alcohol soaked swab. He dodged it, moving his arm out of her reach.

She shot him a stern glare, placing her hands firmly on her hips. "Owen! Stop trying to be so difficult!"

He shrank away from the offending object. "Remind me again why I can't have a real doctor do this part?"

His question was met with an exasperated eye roll. "Because there are more important things for Dr. Jones to do. Like, making sure Tom doesn't die!"

The answer incited a grumble from him as he slumped where he sat on the examination table. She was right, as much as he hated to admit it. Though, wasn't that always the case?

It wasn't so bad, Claire had become relatively gentle in her handling of him since he started cooperating. That is, until she reached a particularly tender cut on his left forearm. He jerked his hand away, earning himself another icy glare. He moved again as she tried to reach for it, and again. Finally, she practically tackled his arm, placing the sterilizing cotton on the wound. He howled in pain.  _"Sonofabitch!_ That hurts!" He shouted, though not pulling his arm away in fear of receiving a black eye.

"Well, if you'd hold still, it wouldn't hurt as much," She said simply, dabbing at the cut. She reached for the gauze in the bag with her other hand as she continued cleaning the abrasion.

He grimaced, before his lips twitched into a smirk. "' _Thank you…'_ " He quoted, his voice raising an octave while taking on a breathily sweet disposition. " _'For saving my life.'_ "

Claire bit her lip, fighting back a smile. "Beauty and the Beast… Really?"

"You understood the reference."

"You're the one quoting Disney movies."

"Fair enough," He said with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Now, which one would I be, beauty or the beast?"

Claire's eyes flashed up from her ministrations, skeptical as to why he even had to ask. "Oh, if anyone's the beauty, it's me."

"Could've had me fooled," Owen teased. "You've got a mean right hook," he added, flinching as she brought her hand up to smack his uninjured shoulder. "I'm kidding!"

Her brow quirked up in disbelief, daring him to continue his boyish pestering. She had to fight back her own smile as she looked up again at Owen's playful smirk. He made no further indications that he was in any pain as she tended to his (very minor) wounds, much to Claire's surprise. At his lack of protest, her touches became more gentle, less controlling. She slowed her hand as it rested against his face, disinfecting the small intermittent scratches.

Her mind wandered to what had taken place in only a single day, much less an entire week. The body count was not high, but significant enough to make her feel uneasy. She had lost some valuable, and some most definitely  _not_  valuable, workers. And the death... no  _murder_  of the animals was almost just as tragic as the human casualties. She was brought back to watching the dying apatosaurus fight for its last breath; the sadness in its eyes heart wrenching, the mournful cries enough to bring tears to Claire's eyes. She never thought she would have to see anything like that again.

It wasn't just the loss of the workers or animals that tugged at the redhead's heartstrings. No, it was the fact that she had almost lost what had been most important to her. Too many times this week did she have to silently pray for the safety of her loved ones as they flirted too closely with death. It had taken such a toll on her, both physically and emotionally. Tom and Owen had certainly been through the ringer, but they had unknowingly taken her with them.

She couldn't even begin to imagine how Owen felt at this moment. He had almost lost Blue. It was arguably lucky that Tom had cracked just what was causing the epidemic, even more so that he found one of the devices on Blue herself. The knowledge had come at such a price though; Wendy's death was tragic, but it had saved lives, including Tom's own.

Owen had noticed her faraway expression, her hand still at the top of his face. He reached out, his fingers grazing the back of her other hand. She startled out of her thoughts, giving a reassuring smile at the contact.

His hand froze, however, as it fell to her chin. A contusion had formed at the base, discoloring the skin in a purple mark; a reminder of her earlier encounter at Paddock Nine. His thumb traced the bruise lightly, his brows furrowing in concern. He hadn't remembered any physical harm actually coming to her. "What's this?"

Claire went right back to dressing his wounds, an air of nonchalance about her. "I ran into some InGen mercs when I came to help." She gave a side-eye glance that seemed to say  _'But you should see the other guys..._ ' as she placed a small bandage above his eye. "Nothing I couldn't handle."

She went ahead and told Owen what had taken place.

Apart from the obstacles she had encountered, there really hadn't been  _too_  much trouble after reaching the observation deck. After locking the paddock doors, Claire had to move fast. The man with the flare gun hadn't gone down easily, as she expected. Upon the canister hitting the back of his head, he turned just as Claire had grappled onto him, her hands scrambling to tear the gun from his grasp. There was a struggle, before he prematurely shot the flare into the enclosure.

This had earned him another harsh blow to the back of the head. After he crumbled to the ground, Claire had a small amount of time before the Tyrannosaur would show up. It had been a gut feeling that InGen would make use of the large theropod. Hence, why she brought the Therizinosaurus gas with her. She ran to the catwalk, opening the canister as she threw it to the ground below. Then, she ran back, racing to the bottom level to unlock the doors in time for Owen and Jackie to come in.

Owen's concerned expression shifted into one of admiration as Claire recounted what she had done. She was truly an amazing woman. What had  _he_  done to deserve her?

It was then that he told her all that Jackie had said in Paddock Nine. He told her of the plan, of the reasoning behind all the death.

Claire paused, her hand hovering above his cheek as she listened to all Jackie had done. "She did all that herself?"

Owen shook his head. "No," he replied. "She had help."

The redhead pursed her lips in thought, dropping her hand to her side. She had already begun to form her own speculations as to who else was behind this whole ordeal. Immediate action would have to take place in order to prevent another incident. For now, however, it could be placed on the back burner. At the moment, she had other things on her mind.

A smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she watched Owen's face. She couldn't imagine what would have happened had he never returned to the island. Without him, the park could have potentially perished, along with every animal there. Words could not express how glad she was that he was with her in the end, that he had come back. "Thank you," she said quietly, placing the supplies back into the first-aid kit. In all honesty, she wasn't entirely sure which was the main reason for her expression of gratitude. It had been a combination of things, really. He had come back into her life; he had saved the park.

"Anytime." But he didn't ask why. He didn't need to know. Her two words had already said so much. He only returned her smile with one of his own. "What do we do now?"

Her smile widened at his use of her own words. "Probably stick together."

"For survival?" He asked as he took her hand in his.

"No," she replied, her sly tone giving her away. "Something  _more_  than that."

His lips stretched into a smile at her response.

Claire immediately leaned into him, wrapping her arms gently around his neck.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Owen put out a defensive hand in front of him, holding Claire at a distance, an ornery glint in his eyes. "Are you sure? This seems like a heat of the moment thing. I mean, I'm just getting off of an adrenaline high—"

"Shut up and kiss me!"

And so he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read, commenting, and left kudos on this story. Thanks for sticking with me! There will be an epilogue in the near future, so watch for that! 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed the story as much as I enjoyed writing it! :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Any feedback at all is more than welcome! :)
> 
> also... references are fun....


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